Star Wars: Resurgence
by Icelavad
Summary: Following the Battle of Bilbringi, the Empire was in a steady state of decay. Failed leaders attempted to restore it, but all failed. In all the chaos, a group of Imperials escape a New Republic prison. Their small strike force seems insignificant, but with a mechanical genius, and a less obvious tactical genius, very few things block their path to attempt to restore the Empire.
1. Chapter 1

The Imperial outpost on Bilbringi was in a state of panic. The fleet commanded by Grand Admiral Thrawn had retreated without destroying the New Republic assault force that had attempted to steal a Chrystal Gravfield Trap. Word had gotten around quickly that Thrawn was dead, and chaos ensued as it did at the time of Emperor Palpatine's death.

Invasion warning alarms blared, only adding to the chaos. Few were actually taking up defensive positions, mining facilities being evacuated and the several Carrack-Class cruisers stationed at Bilbringi were being prepared for retreat. Stormtroopers, engineers, Naval troopers, officers, all attempting to cram their ways into the shuttles taking off to the cruisers in orbit. Those that didn't escape had only the choice to fight or surrender to the incoming New Republic ground assault force.

The Lambda-Class shuttles exploded in midair. Turbolaser fire came from above, several Correlian Gunships and Gallofrey-Class transports descended onto the planetoid, escorted by X-Wing and A-Wing squadrons. All those who believed themselves to be fortunate enough to escape on the shuttles died in the blaze of laser fire. The ground forces are all that's left.

An AT-AT collapsed as a Y-Wing's proton torpedo collided into it's side, a flurry of shrapnel and sparks flew from the towering machine. Several ground based turbolaser batteries fired up into the sky, and a Gunship came down. Several bomber squadrons descended on the base, bombing the defensive installations into oblivion. Light laser cannons fired blindly as the sensor arrays on the turbolasers were destroyed. The Imperial offensive was over. The defensive would begin.

* * *

"Fabel, put the blaster down." A man in an officer's uniform ordered. "We are surrendering. There is nothing we can do here but die." He looked sullenly at his subordinates, weapons in hands.

"Lieutenant," One of the officers replied in an argumentative tone. "We need to hit the rebels as hard as we can while they're here. We can kill as many as possible and set back their assaults." He said hopefully

"Crewman Kalist, we are not going to fight. This is a pointless battle. It would be better for us to save ourselves for this time and hope we may continue our fight later on, when we can do something relevant." The Lieutenant said harshly, glaring at Kalist. He sat down, and said, "If you want to go off and die, you can. Take your weapons and go to the front lines if you wish to."

Several of the troopers began to arm themselves. "But know this," The Lieutenant continued. "I will not be held responsible for your actions. You are all fools, rushing blindly into the field." His eyes had a glint of anger in them, but at the same time a sadness. "You're going to die if you go out there. Nothing can stop that. Stay and surrender."

"I'm sorry sir." Kalist said. "It's better to die with honor than to surrender in defeat." Kalist signalled for the other six to follow him, weapons ready, armor on. The doors of the barracks opened, they ran out, and they closed again. A door to death.  
"Sir." An ensign said. "We will stay here."

He looked at the three remaining crewmen, thanking something or someone quietly as he looked them over. An ensign and two crewmen. "Fabel, you will take command if anything happens to me." The Lieutenant said. "As of this point, we are no longer Imperial officers. You may refer to me as Huff, or Thelcar."

"Yes sir." The three said.

"I am no longer sir either, your commanding officer is now a traitor to the Empire for surrendering, as are you." He glanced at each of them sadly. "We can keep our fight alive later, but the law says we are to be court marshaled if we do survive."

"Alright, Thelcar." One of the former crewmen said. "Do we just stay here? Leave the door unlocked and put a sign up?" He said sarcastically. And to his surprise, Thelcar responded to his idea unusually.

"Actually, Ordol, that is a good idea. At least we might not be stormed or bombed if they know we have surrendered." Thelcar said, unlocking the door and typing a surrender note to be displayed on the keyscreen on the other side of the door.

Ordol Cavi sat down, surprised. He just sat there, silent, for the rest of the time. Mal Fabel on the other hand, began pacing. "How do we know the rebels won't bomb us to hell anyways?"

"We don't." Jerot Ruana said, "We just hope we don't. Now can we all just have a few minutes of silence?" He said, sitting down, closing his eyes.  
"Even if we do stop talking, all we will hear are blaster shots." Thelcar said. "We might as well talk, maybe about something-"

Thelcar was cut off as the door opened and several New Republic troopers entered. "You are now prisoners of the New Republic." The Sergeant of the squad said. "Come peacefully and you won't be hurt."

Ordol got up and walked over to the squad. Jerot did so too, quite more at ease than Ordol though. Mal was quite reluctant, and Thelcar joined them. They were escorted outside, into the now ruined Bilbringi outpost.

Kalist's squad hadn't made it ten meters from the barracks. Their bodies were on the ground, an E-Web Repeating Blaster placed another twenty meters forward, obviousl controlled by rebels. The Anti-Aircraft turret emplacements around the barracks section of the base had been disabled too, no turrets or droids swiveling to inspect the wandering soldiers. But they weren't wandering, or walking to a training excercise. They were prisoners.

Two TIE fighters flew over head, three X-Wings behind them. Flurries of red lasers came from the wingtip mounted lasers, and clipped a TIE fighter. A wing came crashing down five meters from the captors and prisoners. The New Republic officers were proffessionals and were not swayed by the crash, and ushered Thelcar and his squad onward.

A ring of Gallofrey-Class transports was waiting for the approaching soldiers. T2b-Tanks were emplaced around the transports, along with plenty of troops with them. Unless the Imperials could get an AT-AT or a bomber in, they couldn't get out of this situation. But those routes were checked, bombers had taken out the vehicle garissons and intercepted any fighters attempting to escape or fight.

The sergeant hit Thelcar with the butt of his rifle. "Get in the ring. Once you're in, you will be transported elsewhere. You scum won't be in my hands anymore." He spit on Thelcar's boot.

Thelcar glared at him, but didn't do anything. Mal dropped to the ground and attempted to kick the sergeant's feet out from under him, but ended up on the ground being beaten by several of their captors. "I'd kill you if it were up to me. Your 'New Order' should die with you." The sergeant said.

Mal got up, and allowed himself to be escorted by the rebels. Reluctantly, he passed through the defensive ring into the New Republic outpost on Bilbringi. So were the rest of the captured Imperials, obviously not enthusiastic about boarding a rebel ship without being in command.

"All right," The sergeant said, gesturing forward. "You're to be assigned as prisoners to Major Goltze." Goltze came forward, several vanguards beside him. The vanguards took the prisoners and pushed them up the Gallofrey's ramps.

Thelcar turned his head as he went up the ramp. There were plenty more Imperials in the ring, all unarmed and looking miserable. Groups were being separated and reassembled, ushered into the transports.

"Imperial prisoners," Major Goltze announced. "Gallofrey one, two and three will go to Carida, you'll be stationed in your own work camps. Let's see how you like it there." He finished without dismissal or anything the Imperial's considered to be standard.

By the time Goltze was finished, Thelcar, Mal, Ordol and Jerot had gotten in the transport. The vanguards took each of them to their cells. Thelcar and Jerot were placed together in the same cell. Mal and Ordol were forced to continue down the lower deck, transformed from a cargo hold to a prison. Eventually, their cell came and they too were imprisoned.

More gray-clad Imperials were escorted into the craft, each cell being filled. There must have been several hundred Imperials in the cargo hold. All going to Carida, the position of one of the largest outposts for the Empire before the rebels got to it. Their positions were reversed now. The Galactic Empire being pushed into the corner of known space, the New Republic gaining ground, and day after galactic day, worlds would continue to turn from their original allegiances.


	2. Chapter 2

"Welcome to Carida," The intercom echoed through the prison block of the Gallofrey-Class transport. "You'll be staying here for a while, though I wish you'd stay here longer than that." The Goltze said in his usual annoyed tone when dealing with Imperials.

"He's quite a pleasant guy." Mal said sarcastically, getting up off the floor. "I really hope he's the warden too. That would be just wonderful."

"Shut it, Mal." Ordol responded. "I just hope I can get a cell with a silent officer."  
"You're quite pleasant too." Mal said, hoping to irritate Ordol.

"Yeah? I hope you think a foot up your ass is pleasant, because that's all you're gonna get." Ordol sat against the wall, staring at Mal.

A banging came from the other side of the wall. "We'd appreciate it if you two would shut the hell up. Thanks!"

"See?" Ordol said in a confident tone, "I'm not the only one who wants quiet."  
The voice from the other room came again. "You're not helping the situation. Why don't you both shut up?"

Mal chuckled. "I guess I'm not the only one at fault." He said, and directed at the wall, "You could 'help the situation' by keeping your mouths shut too. We all could use some rest before we get to the prison."  
"Like that's gonna happen." Ordol retorted. "We're entering the atmosphere, and unless a three minute nap appeals to you, you're out of luck."

The intercom blared again, "We will be landing in two minutes. Prepare to disembark, Imps." The message cut off at the insult.

"Why can't we ever find a common enemy and stop our disputes." Mal said to himself.

"I can still hear you," Ordol said. "And the answer is that we don't stand a chance against the rebels anymore. We might as well shrivel up and die as they mop up the rest of the remnant."

"Well aren't you a ray of sunshine?" Mal said sarcastically. "I'm getting sick of your pessimism all the time, don't you ever get tired of your own whining? I wish you could hear yourself, then maybe you'd reconsider all your responses."

"Eh," Ordol shrugged. "I feel fine as I am."

That was it. Mal stomped over to Ordol and kicked him in the stomach. He lurched over in his sit, and fell on his side as he was kicked several more times. Behind his attacker though, the door had slid open. Two New Republic soldiers were standing there, watching the fight for several seconds longer before prying Mal away from Ordol.

"Why didn't we just let your dysfunctional Galactic Empire tear itself apart instead of fighting?" One of the guards asked Mal. "Seems like you guys do a good enough job against yourselves." He smiled in an irritating manner.

"Watch it, rebel." Mal glared at the guard. "The moment I am in a position to kill you, I will do just that."  
The guard laughed, "I guess I'll have to wait a long time then, unless time picks me off first." He pulled Mal out of the cell and sent him down the corridor. The other guard helped Ordol up in a not too willing manner and pushed him to follow his somewhat of a comrade.

The process which removed Mal and Ordol from their cells was repeated a hundred times over, more officers and crewmen being taken to the prison. The corridor was filled with prisoners, more than either of them could believe would fit on the transport. Marvels of rebel engineering. Too bad it was used on prison cells rather than storage.

Little light shown at the end of the corridor, the ramp extended into the night Carida landscape. Outside were the walls of the prison camp, designation C-19. Several turrets were set up along the landing zone, lining a pathway into the prison. Very few rebel soldiers were visible, though there were a number of old Imperial towers painted over in New Republic red. There wasn't very much to the camp, very symmetrical, grey and red. And the detention block right in the middle. A hollowed out, red and grey brick. Very simple, but the standard design of Imperial prisons.

"At least this isn't one of those weird rebel designed fortresses." Ordol said. "Those things were bad looking. Though the red here doesn't match too well."

"And at least you see a little bit of the bright side, even if it isn't much." Mal responded, "You're much more tolerable when you aren't pointing out all the bad details in something."

"I think that's the case with everyone." Someone at their side said. Jerot and Thelcar had pushed through the crowd towards them. "Good to see you two again."

"You too Lieutenant," Mal said. "What is our plan now?"

"The plan is to survive."

"What?" Mal asked, surprised. "No escape or resistance plan?"

"No. I've got nothing." Thelcar said, somewhat depressed.

"Oh." Mal said, disheartened. "Will we talk to any of the other prisoners about any plans?"

"If we find anyone of importance or someone who stands out," Thelcar replied, "Most likely."

The walls of the detention block were becoming more distinct, New Republic symbols painted on the side. Most of the Imperial security systems had been replaced with a more suitable system for the scavenging rebels.

"Once we're inside, we are silent about this." Thelcar said in a hushed tone. "Clear?"

"Clear." Mal said, seriously.

"We meet only in the messhall and anywhere outside of the detention block. Nowhere else."

"Clear." Mal repeated, "See you tomorrow then."

"You too."

The four entered the building, josteled around by several hundred other prisoners. They became separated by the swarm, and ended up in very different parts of the prison from each other. Not that it would matter much, as they would be watched the entire time they were in the complex.

**Authors Note: Sorry for a shorter chapter than the last, the next ones will be longer. Anyways, character suggestions? They won't be introduced until later chapters as I have the next three already written. Please stay tuned for the next chapters!**


	3. Chapter 3

"The planet Carida is now under the jurisdiction of High Admiral Blitzer Harrsk. All rebel activity is to cease, and all rebels are to surrender. Refusal to comply will result in your deaths." The announcement was broadcast throughout the prison, and apparently planetwide too.

The guards began to buzz around the prison, a more concerned presence about them. They knew that after two years of having these Imperials as their prisoners, the roles would switch once again. Red lights flashed three times, signaling the prison was going into lockdown.

Jerot looked around his cell. One other person present, Ioth, a TIE fighter pilot. Small build, no real strength about him, but deadly reflexes. No use in an escape other than sentry.

"Help me find any creases or cracks in the walls." Jerot said, "Hopefully we may find some loose panel or something. Maybe even a few wires. If we can get to the wiring, we might be able to unlock the cell door."

"Your idea is good," Ioth said, "But it's very unlikely there will be anything. If you find anything, I will help you."

Great. One less person searching for the cell's weaknesses. That means nearly twice as long to find them, if any. He continued searching anyways. All the vents were bolted tight, and had jagged edges inside. Even if the bolts were loose, he couldn't make it through without being cut open.

The wall panels. He began to feel the creases down, measuring them for any bumps or slight openings. It took ten minutes to touch all the lines in the walls, but nothing came out of the search.

The ceiling, perhaps? Jerot looked up. There were plenty of creases in the ceiling, but none seemed all to useful from the ground.  
"Ioth," Jerot hissed. "Help me move the bunk."

The TIE pilot helped him slide the bunk over, grunting with each movement. Jerot's assessment of his strength had proven correct. He climbed to the top, and began to feel the ceiling. There was a slight difference in the weight of the panels. He pushed it up. It was an empty, dark, room. There were no doors, no windows, nothing. He set the panel back down.

"Nothing." Jerot sighed. "Dark and empty."

He jumped from the top of the bunk to the ground. There was a slight echo. One possibility had completely eluded him. The floor. He started patting on the floor, to anyone else he would have looked insane, but Ioth caught on quickly. He too began to pat the floor. The bunk's original position had set itself in small indentations in the floor. Barely noticeable, but they were there.

"Try to get your fingers in these dents," Jerot whispered. "We might be able to lift this panel."

Ioth joined in Jerot's theory, and the floorplate lifted slightly. Just enough to slide a hand into. Jerot slid his hand in and began pulling harder, and the plate reluctantly slid away. Below it was a set of cables. They all intersected, crossing in multiple directions.

"Give me a blanket." Jerot said, "And get me something sharp too."

The pilot got the requested items, though it was more difficult to make the knife from part of the bed frame. He handed them to Jerot, who began to cut away at several wires. The door slid open. Not just his door, but every door on the level. Eighty prisoners worth of cell doors had been opened by cutting several wires.

He quickly got up and bolted out of the door. The other prisoners already had that idea, clogging up the corridor. But it wasn't easy to get lost in the stream of people, as they all had one destination in mind.

"Find a control panel!" Ioth yelled, "We're breaking our brothers out of here!"

The crowded hallways jostled even more, but in search of control panels. Several were found, at the end of the hallway. And there were several rebel troopers too. But four on eighty is still quite an easy fight to win, even when the eighty have no weapons.

The rebels were tackled to the ground, being beaten and trampled by the escaping Imperials. Within moments their weapons were gone, in the hands of their ex-prisoners. And the control panels were next to be dismembered.

Blue lights flashed three times, signaling the end of the lockdown. Doors on every level opened. Another four-hundred prisoners released. Another group of rebels down. And the access panels may be able to gain control of base defenses...

Jerot began tampering with one of the panels. He hacked into the system, and found the commands for the turrets. Of course the rebels had been too lazy to replace the entire underground circut net connecting all the computers together. Direct access to the turrets was the result. And... Target anyone wearing anything but the grey prison uniform. Now all the rebels would have to fight against their own base.

Jerot continued out of the prison, slightly behind all of the others. Though that didn't matter much, as most of the rebels would be dead anyways. He rushed down the stairs, as the turbolifts were always locked only for New Republic personnel. At the bottom, waiting outside of the detention block, were Thelcar, Mal, and Ordol.

"We need to get out of here while the rebels are still fighting their own turrets." Jerot said. "I reprogrammed them to attack any lifeform without the standard prison uniform."

"Good work, Jerot." Thelcar said, "Now you have the next phase planned out?"

"Uh," Jerot began, uncertain, "Not really. Though most bases have several gunships in the area. Maybe some Correlian ships too." He sifted through his mind. "Outside the landing zone, there are two Correlian Gunships. If we can make it to them, we can get to any position on Carida."

"All right, let's go!" Thelcar shouted, taking off in a spring to the landing zone.

The other three followed him, several meters behind. A T4b-Tank rolled by, it's massive treads gouging into the ground. Thelcar ran as fast as he could, and dived out of the way of it's tracks. The tank continued on it's course, it's dual turret swiveling towards one of the corrupted defense turrets, and a flurry of missiles followed the laser barrage.  
Thelcar signaled for the others to follow once the tank had passed. They followed, and after running for several hundred meters, reached the landing zone. Two Correlian Gunships were stationed there, already being filled with escaped Imperials.

A T2b tank came hovering by, its small turret turning towards Thelcar and his squad. Several bolts came out of the quad laser cannon, zapping into the ground around them. Beside the tank, the Gunship rose and fired a missile at it, destroying it completely. The fire of the tank died down, the boarding ramp lowered, and Thelcar jumped aboard. Jerot, Mal and Ordol were not far behind, and were only several seconds behind Thelcar in boarding.

"You guys alright?" The Lieutenant asked, concerned about the T2b's interruption of their escape. "That tank could have done a score on you."  
"We're all here," Ordol said, "So one of us must be dead."

"Yeah, we're here and fine." Mal said, responding to Ordol's sarcasm. "What do we do now?"

"I guess we get to work." Thelcar said, smiling. "This might not be a ship you're used to, but we'd better make ourselves useful. I don't wanna be dumped off at the nearest planet during our flight."

"Ok," Jerot said. "Where's the comm station? I bet I could find a decent terminal there."

Thelcar shrugged. "Go look around. I don't know anything about Correlian ships. Ordol, you'd better get to the engine room. Shouldn't be hard to find, usually at the back of ships."

Ordol nodded, and rushed off. Mal turned to the Lieutenant.

"And you Mal," Thelcar said, staring at him. "You'd better head up to the bridge, find the commanding officer and check if there are any bridge positions. You got any other experience than nav?"

"I'll be off now." Jerot said, briskly walking away.

"Tractor beam operation and some basic gunner training. Nothing much else." Mal said, not really caring about his position.

"Get up to the bridge then!" Thelcar ordered. "Go get a position and we'll be off this rock."

"Yes sir!" Mal saluted and ran off through the corridors.

Thelcar walked through the ship for a bit, inspecting it. It was quite different from Imperial design. The white, red, orange and black didn't appeal to him much. The standard grey of the Empire must have been drilled deep into his head. The corridors were much shorter too, but you've got to expect that from a ship no more than 150 meters long. But it was a ship, and any ship that can go into hyperspace would do.

Thelcar thought back to the Battle of Bilbringi. Not much of a battle though, no. All because of that damned Noghri. The Empire had fallen there, no matter what others might think. It was a slaughter, and all that remained captured. At least he had been one lucky enough to live to fight another day. And now Admiral Harrsk had found his way out of the Deep Core, and no doubt had plans to expand his own remnant of the Empire.

Harrsk. How he thanked him silently. Though he might be partly insane, he was not incompetent. Maybe it was just luck, but that Admiral had found a way to survive since the Battle of Endor. If it wasn't luck, maybe he was reliable enough to follow.

The corridor came to an abrupt end, and split in two directions. Thelcar took the left. The different ways were identical and led to the same place. He continued on, the bridge growing closer.

What about Delvardus? He had a decent fleet hidden away, but he most likely was minding his own state. And Teradoc, that fat fool tucked away in his own little self-proclaimed Empire. All these warlords had torn the Empire apart.

"And who are you?" A voice shocked Thelcar out of his thoughts. A man was standing at the entrance to the bridge.

"I am Lieutenant Huff Thelcar." He responded. "Stationed on Bilbringi before being taken to Carida."

"I am Major Verrak," The man said, looking down at Thelcar. He was quite tall. At least ten centimeters taller than him. "And don't talk about being 'taken'. You are an Imperial, and you will not succumb to the rebels. Now get to work." And the Major turned around.

"Major," Thelcar began. "What is my duty aboard this ship?"

Verrak looked at him. "You're the second highest ranked officer aboard this ship. Therefore, you will be my second in command." He said, returning to his position. "We also have a spare targeting terminal, we need more weapons operators."

"Yes sir." Thelcar headed towards the right side of the bridge, tactical displays, navigation charts, weapons computers, all crammed against the wall. Quite unlike the bridge of a Carrack-Class cruiser, which had actual organization. But he took his seat, and the weapons didn't seem to be very much different than those of a Carrack, minus the ion weaponry.

"Ensign," Verrak shouted across the bridge, "Take us to the base hangar. We're going to take some more ships with us. Anything with slave circuts too, we want to take as much as we can."

"Yes sir," Mal said, turning back to his computer. The ship ascended to about three-hundred meters, then set it's course to one of the base's hangars. Nothing appeared on the tactical display for fighters taking off. They must have already left or else no one had come here.

"Take us down in there, Ensign." Verrak ordered. He pressed on the comm button at his command station. "All pilots, prepare for landing. You're going to be taking some X-Wings, A-Wings and Y-Wings, so you guys had better refresh for a few minutes on your piloting skills."

The ship began to descend, passing through the hangar door into the bay. It was much bigger than it looked from the outside, over a hundred fighters stationed inside. And there were a few unusual looking fighters in the back. Somewhat like X-Wings, but different. Anyways, they were fighters, and pilots need fighters.

A thunk came as the Gunship landed, and there was a slight hiss audible from the bridge as the ramps opened. The pilots rushed out, boarding their new vessels. The other Gunship landed too, more pilots exiting and claiming their new goods. Sixty X-Wings, twenty Y-Wings, and thirtysix A-Wings, all ripe for the taking.

All the cockpits slid shut, and some of the engines began to hum online. The sensor station on the Gunship showed all the fighters to be online, and cleared them for takeoff. Fighter after fighter flew out of the hangar, and soon followed by the two Correlian Gunships. The sky began to fade on the frontal viewport, and soon enough, the white dotted black of space became visible.

And in that space was an amazing sight after two years of imprisonment. A Tector-Class Star Destroyer, and two Imperator-Class Star Destroyers. The Major signalled for the comms station to broadcast an Imperial ID. Several TIE Interceptor squadrons had come to intercept the escape force, and switched from attack to escort duties. After several minutes, the ships had exited the planet's gravity well, and with a flash of pseudomotion, the ships were gone.


	4. Chapter 4

After two years, the Imperials had escaped Carida. Once their own world and home to a great military academy for them, now turned to the rebellion. How far did the New Republic plan to conquer, was the question on every Imperial's mind. And the answer would be as far as it took to irradicate the Empire.

Outside the ship, the star-streaked tube of hyperspace followed the Gunships and fighters. Near one hundred fighters and two Correlian Gunships now in the Empire's hands. Though not very much, it was better than two extra Gunships and a hundred fighters in the rebel's hands.

In the two years since Thrawn's death, the Empire had slowly crumbled. Some reborn Palpatine's had attempted to retake the Empire, but ultimately had failed. Warlordism had returned and the fragmented empire refused to be reassembled. Very few had hope of the Empire's return.

On one of the displays inside of the Gunship, a countdown began. Counting from ten, until they dropped out of hyperspace. The Gunship's hadn't been traveling very far, but their destination wasn't too far from them either. Myrkyr had been an important part of Thrawn's original campaign, and it wouldn't hurt to have some defenses against the rising New Jedi Order.

Major Verrak pressed a button on his command board to comm the engineering bay. "Are those nutrient frames ready yet?"

"Almost sir, shouldn't take more than an hour." Came through the channel.

"You have twenty minutes. Major Verrak out." He replied impatiently. How long could it take for those idiots to make a simple nutrient frame? Their answer was always 'It will take some time to adapt it to the ysalimiri' and such.

The Major glanced around the bridge. Six people were up there, not including the Major. He sighed, missing the spacious bridge of an Imperator Star Destroyer. But that would have to wait for now.

"Begin the landing sequence, Ensign." He barked across the small room.

"Yes sir." Mal replied, jamming figures into the navigations computer. "We will be on the ground in three minutes. The trees are reducing sensor effectiveness by nearly seventy percent, we're flying in by eyes only."

"Just get us down into a clearing safely." The Major said, concentrating. "If there is any armor, the soldiers going out to retreive the ysalimiri will need them. Keep them somewhat defended from those wolf things."

"They're called vornskrs."

"Don't be smart at me Ensign." He yelled.

"Sorry sir."

The ship descended into the planet's atmosphere and hovered above the tree tops. It glided along them until the edge of the forest. Not exactly a clearing, but it would do if they could get out soon enough. The planet was officialy under New Republic control now, not exactly a homey place for Imperials.

With a small thud, the landing gear struck the ground. The usual hiss of the boarding ramp descending came several seconds later. Verrak began barking orders again, commanding the soldiers to stay by the treeline and to avoid venturing into the vornskr infested forest.

"Major," Thelcar began, turning from his tactical station. "Could I join the search party outside of the ship?"

"Alright. We shouldn't be taking off very soon so you can inspect the ysalimiri capture." He looked at Thelcar and then turned back to his command board. "If I order you back, or if you see vornskrs, you are to return to the ship immediately."

"Yes sir." Thelcar said, rising from his station.

"Good, you may leave now." The Major said, returning concentration on his command board. Not that there was anything to do with it currently.

Thelcar walked through the command bridge doorway out into the corridors. The ship was still unfimiliar, but the paths through it all went in the same pattern. A small corridor, it splits into two, then rejoins after creating a square and so on. The ramp was on the other side of this block.

He continued down his route, doors at the side now active, some opening and closing with Imperial officers entering or exiting. It was good to see a ship full of Imperials outside of prison cells now.

The location of the ramp was unusual. It was in the center of the narrowed corridor with three railings around it's sides except for the way intended for exit. Behind the rails were pathways to continue through the halls to the engineering section of the ship. Along with the unusual design, one side of the ramp was flat and the other had steps.  
Thelcar descended down the ramp, down into the greenish brown plains at the edge of Myrkyr's forests. The forest was quite a sight too, the brown leaves and the animals crawling through them. And there were the ysalamiri, motionless, clinging to the trees. They apparently derived nutrients from the tree through their claws.

One of the retreival teams began to remove the ysalamiri, carefully prying one claw at a time from the branch and placing it on the nutrient frame. It took a long time to remove a single ysalimir, but the effects were worthwhile.

Deeper in the forest, Thelcar could see some rustling in the bushes and plants. A furry head with yellow eyes peered out, observing the Imperials. After maybe, twenty seconds, it dove back into the bushes.

"Get those ysalimiri on the frames quickly," Thelcar ordered, quietly and cautiously. "There are some vornskr hiding in the bushes several meters in. Unless you feel like being mauled, I suggest you get finished and board."

The soldiers continued their work for several more minutes. They then packed their frames and specialized prying tools back into several small packages and returned them onto the Gunship. The moment they were all aboard, the vornskrs decided to prowl the area they were using for several minutes. After finding there was nothing, they returned into the dense forest.

A small cylinder pinned to Thelcar's collar began to beep. It was a comm cylinder, preparing to relay orders from Verrak to him. "Sir?" He asked, applying pressure to it.  
"How many ysalimiri did you get." The Major asked or demanded in his usual impatient tone.

"Fourty-eight. Both Gunships should have enough to cover the entire ship."

"Good. Now get back to the bridge, Lieutenant. And get here quickly. We're getting off this planet now."

"Yes sir."

The transmission cut off, turning the small green light on the cylinder off. Thelcar rushed through the corridor pattern and reached the bridge. He threw himself into his tactical station, waiting for further orders.

"Ensign," Verrak said. "Begin our ascent into space, then plot a course to Kalist VI."

Mal began entering the coordinates. "Kalist VI?"

"Yes," Verrak responded irritated. "Kalist VI. It's the capital of Admiral Harrsk's state."

"Yes sir." He responded, returning to his nav computer.

Blitzer Harrsk's state. His self-declared empire, Zero Command. They would finally be rejoining Imperial service and continue their campaign against the rebellion. "We're not going to be there long." Verrak said, "Once we are refueled and have some weapons and supplies, we're going to Sluis Van."

"Can I ask why, sir?" Thelcar asked him.

"We're going to attempt to steal a frigate or two." Verrak said, "I think our New Republic ID's will get us enough time to steal a Nebulon-B, maybe even an Assault Frigate." He returned to staring at his command.

Thelcar began to wonder. What could be drawing his attention from the bridge so much? He decided to find out. "Major," He asked, getting up from his post. "Can I head back to engineering and check on some of the crew?"

Verrak turned away from his display and looked at Thelcar. "You have ten minutes, and I want you to file an efficiency report as well. Dismissed." He returned his attention back to his command board.

Thelcar took the chance to pass by the command chair and take a peek at the command board. On several of the screens were datafiles on the crew members. On the other, a file in which he had moved several names.

"What are you looking at, Lieutenant?"

Thelcar flipped back to his duties. Apparently he had been looking for longer than he thought. "Nothing, sir."

"Good. Now go file that report."

"Yes sir." Thelcar ran through the corridors, through that unusual loop in the passages, and back to the engineering room. Approximately ten people were in there, all sitting at terminals or half-hidden by machines.

"Ordol." The Lieutenant called. "Get over here."

Ordol gave him partial attention from tampering with one of the engine systems. "What is it?" He asked.

"I need the data on engine and reactor efficiency for the last two days. Copy it to my datapad immediately." Thelcar began to turn around. "Oh, and I think you should try and create some droids. We could use some droids that can access the entire systems of a ship and operate them on their own." He continued through the doorway and left back to the bridge.

* * *

Ordol continued to tamper with the engine systems. If he opened the fuel intake valve by two percent, he could increase engine speed by four percent, but would sacrifice two percent more fuel. If he narrowed the intake valve by two percent, the opposite would occur. Speed would be more important if they wanted a quick escape. He opened the valve slightly.

"Hey, Ordol." One of the other engineers called. "We've got an energy fluxuation in the engine. Speed has increased by four percent, and its heating up three percent faster." He began tapping at the control panel to lower engine speed. "What did you do this time?"

"I adjusted the engines to run four percent faster, as you just said. The heat increase is only a side effect." Ordol said obviously. "Just lower our speed to normal, we can increase speed later if we want to run."

The other engineer scrolled through his display. "Nothing here says that the Major authorized this."

"Since when do I need authorization?" Ordol snorted. "We aren't Imperial anymore. The Empire is dead, and we've deserted. To hell with the chain of command."

"Yeah, but the acting captain of this DP20 is still an acting captain. Orders are orders, unless you want to attempt to take over." The engineer said sarcastically.

"Abano." Ordol said, calling the other engineer by his name. "You could be doing so much more for this ship if you'd just ignore a few rules. The ability to add extra engine speed could prove useful. Say another DP20 or CR90 came after us. We could easily outrun them while filling them with holes."

Abano stared at him. "The only immediate effect I see coming is the Major's rage coming after you. That giant would turn you into bantha fodder." He said, smiling.  
"That's a sight I'd love to see." Another engineer laughed.

"Shut it, Sylvain." Ordol said, not caring to look at him. "I'll make my changes and you can make yours. Or more specifically, your lack of changes."

"I really think you could use an attitude adjustment." Sylvain said, still laughing. "Maybe a beating too, just to cram the rules into your head." Abano smiled, amused by Sylvain.

"The moment I see you three get along is the moment I die." One of the engineers under a computer terminal said. "I'll know the universe ends when there's peace in here."  
"Gaen," Abano said, shaking his head. "Still siding with Ordol, are you?"

"Yes. I see effeciency as more important than reputation." Gaen said, "Did you see the effeciency of the Executor? I know Vader wasn't the most beloved guy in the galaxy."  
"Uh-huh," Sylvain responded. "And then it crashed into the Death Star. So much for efficiency."

"Quit your bickering!" Ordol yelled. "Maybe you could switch your attention to orders, like you say are so important. We need to make some droids." Ordol clicked the comm on his collar. "Jerot," He began. "I need the Supreme-Slicer up here immediately."

There was a delay and slight crackle through the comm. "I'll be right there. Let me finish this." Jerot cut off the link.

"Start assembling a frame," Ordol ordered, "We need hyper-extending scomp-links. At least four of them. Also, a large frame. The hardware going inside that thing is going to take a lot of space, if we want to control an entire frigate." He said, looking up from his datapad.

The doors to the engine room slid open, and Jerot rushed in. "What's going on here that's so important?" He questioned.

"We're in need of a system that can control an entire ship. To be installed in a droid." Ordol said, staring at the new arrival to the room. "As long as it can control a ship's hyperspace trajectory and weapons systems it should be fine. But if it can access a capital ship's entire array of equipment, we might just have a game changer."

"Alright," Jerot said, uncertainly. "I'll see what I can do. I dunno how much a single droid can process, but it might be okay." He took a seat at one of the engineering terminals and began his process of developing code. After several seconds he seemed oblivious to his surroundings. That explained the delay in responding.

"Anyways," Ordol said, returning to his sarcastic state. "I'd love it if you all would just sit around. Very helpful." He sat down next to a box of droid parts. Rummaging through, he plucked out a few scomp-links. "There a droid chassis or two somewhere?"

Abano began assisting in searching for parts. Sylvain just sat on a step with an arc-welder out. "Get the pieces, I'll put it together."

"Any one of us can do that." Gaen said, annoyed. "Do something useful." He began sifting through another crate.

"Yeah, right." Sylvain said, reluctantly. He got up and joined the droid part search team. "But I get to assemble that super-chassis or whatever you intend to create. Sounds kinda fun to build a new droid model."

The engineers all sat around, digging through crates of parts. Jerot sat at an engineering terminal, in a trance like state staring at the screen, fingers tapping like crazy. New droid on the way to serve some chaos to the New Republic.


	5. Chapter 5

"Major!" Thelcar shouted, in a worried but also somewhat relieved tone. "An incident of a huge scale has just occurred. It's being broadcast all over the HoloNet."

"Send the feed to my terminal and give me a summary here and now." Verrak responded, serious tone and all.

Thelcar began scrolling through the news feed. "The Carida system has been destroyed." He began, the relief becoming more clear. "Their sun imploded and destroyed the entire system. All colonies, cities and spaceports in the system have been obliterated or damaged beyond repair."

Verrak became rigid in his chair. They had left Carida just over four days ago. "Give me the info. We can take advantage of this situation." He said, contemplating strategies and outcomes. "This will probably explode like the Alderaan situation. There will be a moment of chaos in which we can strike."

The Lieutenant began thinking over strategies as well. "Grand Admiral Thrawn used his fleet to destroy rebel bases for the purpose of drawing out cargo freighters. When the rebels didn't have enough in stock, they began converting warships." An idea struck him. It was quite visible on his face the way the Major demanded the plan.

"If we hit a large shipyard nearby," He said. "We would be able to steal some undermanned capital ships. Kuat will be filled with warships in this case."

"Good." Verrak said. He dove back into his command board. "Get those engineers working faster. We're going to Kalist VI, we need supplies quickly."

"Sir," Thelcar began uncertainly. "Crewman Ordol changed some of the engine configuration." The way Verrak's face became anger filled, Thelcar didn't want to continue explaining. "We can now achieve a top speed four percent higher than normal."

Verrak's face quickly returned to its normal shade of a light tan. "I don't believe that was authorized, and under any other circumstance there would be punishment." He said. "Though the timing couldn't be better. Ensign Fabel, increase speed on our course to Kalist VI."

The way Verrak responded to Ordol's unauthorized experiment was highly unusual. At any other time, he would have demanded that the engines be returned to normal, then would have demanded they be upgraded. With authorization. This must be a very serious situation for him to ignore his normal protocol.

"Relay the coordinates to the rest of the fleet. Once transmitted, we are to jump in thirty minutes." Verrak commanded. "Upon arrival at Kalist VI we will rendevous at repair platform A-1." He directed the orders at Mal.

Mal began punching in the coordinates. "Sir," He began. "I don't have access to the communications array. Transmissions are routed through the comm team when it isn't on a personal channel."

"Then relay the orders to the comm team!" Verrak said angrily, glaring at Mal. "If we have something to do, follow orders until completion. Always remember you've got to show a bit of initiative to be on the bridge crew."

"Yes sir." Mal said, pressing the key to send the orders over to the comm station. He leaned back in his chair. At least as far as he could in its fixed position. The display in front of him showed a green blip. "Orders transmitted, Major."

"Good. Make any preparations for our jump in the next thirty minutes." Verrak said, getting up from his seat. "I'll be going to my quarters, I need some time to plan." The giant walked across the short command bridge and ducked slightly under the doorway. He was still several centimeters shorter from the doorway, but it must have been a habit from being on some other ship.

Thelcar straightened himself in his seat. "Alright," He began. "I'm in command until the Major is back on the bridge. Start preparing the crew for several hours leave on Kalist's space stations." He glanced around the bridge, his blue eyes glinting. "Crewman Kehel, transmit the notice."

"Yes sir." The usual response came quietly.

Thelcar turned back to his tactical display. All the dots of fighters and Gunships began blinking green. "Transmit control of communications to the bridge." He ordered. "I want the hassle of relaying to be ended. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir," Kehel said, barely audible. "But I will have to transmit the orders to comm and intelligence."

"Then do that." Thelcar said, patience wearing thin. Kehel was a newer officer, he knew the officer was new, but that didn't dismiss the fact he didn't follow the directions stated in the conversation only several minutes ago.

Thelcar tried to relax in his stiff chair. Most of the crewmen on these ships hadn't had field experience for over two years, if at all. It would be difficult to whip them into Imperial standard shape for their quest to restore the Empire.

Thelcar got out of his chair, glancing around the bridge. Verrak would be gone for another fifteen minutes. As he was in command currently, he might as well try the chair out. He sat down in it. The command seat was soft, much nicer than the other crewmen's chairs. There were actual armrests, and in them, command consoles. The captain of the ship could control a lot of the ships functions from the chair, but mostly in just a basic sense. That's where the other crew came in. But if Ordol's forced project worked...

Thelcar stopped that hyperspace lane of thought. He was in the command chair with the command console. Verrak had some files he didn't want Thelcar to see, and if he accessed them from this point, the Major couldn't blame him. He tapped the board and began sifting through the files. There were files on everything having to do with the makeshift fleet. A constant feed of status reports from the other Gunship, and hourly reports from the fighters. Crew effeciency and system effeciency, real time readouts on this ships systems. And personnel files. Thelcar entered the personnel files. There was a subsection for "Officer Candidates". He tried to open it.

"Thelcar!" Verrak roared. "Get the hell out of my seat and my files! I can see who accesses my database from my quarters, and your post seems to be the only one without any entries for the past ten minutes."

Thelcar jolted to his feet. "Sorry sir." He rushed away to his own station.

"Don't move, Lieutenant." Verrak commanded. "Probing a superiors personal files and his databases is against Imperial regulation." He stared at Thelcar, a burning anger in his eyes. "You are removed from duty until further notice." He sat down in the command seat.

"But sir-" Thelcar objected.

"No buts. Your quarters. Now." The Major ordered. "I'm no Thrawn, but I'm not as stupid as you might think."

"Yes sir." Thelcar said, sulking. He headed through the command bridge doorway and down the corridor. Jerot bumped into him in the hallway.

"Sorry sir!" He said, snapping to attention. He couldn't help but be cheerful. "My mistake. Can I ask what you're doing away from the bridge? We've been keeping the bridge fully up to date with our changes to the comm systems and engines."

Thelcar looked at him, a mix of pleasure to see him and sadness to say the reasons for leaving. More accurately, being removed. "I've been removed from active duty."  
"What did you do this time?" Jerot asked, remaining cheerful. "Get into a fist fight with another officer like you did on the _Inexorable_?"

"No, nothing like that." Thelcar replied. He had been removed from duty on the Imperial Star Destroyer _Inexorable _for getting into a fight with another officer, while on duty in front of the entire command crew. "While Verrak was in his quarters I attempted to open up his files."

Jerot laughed. "How did he catch you?"

"He programmed the files to notify him whenever they were accessed."

Jerot didn't even look puzzled or even as if he was thinking. "Easy. You just need a good slicer to get in without tripping through the first file. Every file like that that I've encountered only has a transmission set for opening the main file. If you can get right to the file you want, then you don't have to worry."

"The thing is," Thelcar said, trying to give Jerot a look of obviousness. "I don't know how to slice anything."

"Want me to try for you?" Jerot asked, seeming to get a little excited. "Its boring encrypting and decrypting messages in comm. And its no fun listening to Ordol argue with the engineers all the time. I might as well take a peek in there."

"Don't. Not unless you really want to." Thelcar said. "Actually, I order you not to."

"Sorry sir," Jerot said smirking. "But you're not a Lieutenant right now." He rushed away, no doubt eager to begin slicing into the private files of their captain.

Thelcar sighed. The power of command was nice, but it wasn't very nice to lose it. He continued to his quarters, opened the door, and sat down in the tiny room. A little bed notch in the wall, a little table with a computer terminal on it, and a small shower in the back. He flipped on the computer, and began reading over reports on the Deep Core Warlords sudden blitzkreig against the inner rim. Apparently, Captain Pellaeon had decided to take control of the entire Empire, and the Warlords seemed to actually rally under his flag.

Thelcar turned the terminal off. No reason to read about things he couldn't help, especially when he was removed from duty. He shoved himself into the nook bed, and tried to sleep.

* * *

Jerot's quarters were even more cramped. The bed nook in the side had a slightly higher ceiling and a tray that could come out, which was actually a flip-open terminal. The bed was designed to act as a sleeping area and a chair.

He began his process, becoming deeply involved in his work. Opening files, sending codes, editing code and whatever else he did in his spare time. Verrak didn't have the skill to keep a slicer like Jerot out.

The file security was easy to bypass. It was like walking over a tripwire, or going through the front window, if you could compare it to some real scenario. A few more taps through the web of databases, and he was in. Officer Candidates. It was a small file, just a few names. But the names were surprising enough. He copied everything and sent it to Thelcar. Jerot folded the terminal back into its place and got back up. He had to prepare for the Engine-Room Bickering Contest that he would have to deal with when he got back to work on the omnidroid.

He lay down in his bed, and tried to relax.

**Don't worry, there will be some action in a chapter or two. One does not simply walk into Kuat!**


	6. Chapter 6

The Gunships dropped out of hyperspace, followed soon after by their fighter escorts. Ahead, Kalist VI loomed in the distance. It's mountainous surface and vast deserts show with a high contrast compared to black space. There was only one problem. There weren't any outposts, or space stations, or even any warships as they had expected to be intercepted by. The planet was just the desert it was.

All the fighters and crews began sending transmissions to the lead ship. Each one sent the same question, where is the Imperial base? "Calm down," Verrak shouted over the comm after keying it on. "Stop your damned panic, we'll find something here. There's bound to be something left behind by Zero Command. Prepare the Gunships to land, the fighters will remain in orbit."

Mal nodded his acknowledgement to the Major and set the Gunship's descent to a spot that was slightly more empty than anywhere else. If his guess was correct, they should be landing exactly on the site of the old Zero Command headquarters.

There wasn't the usual thud from the Gunship as it landed, the sand muffling the impact. The only indications of landing were the terminals announcement and that the images on the viewports had remained the same.

"Begin a sensor sweep of the area." Verrak commanded. "I want whatever you can find in this mess. A computer terminal, a datapad, anything that might indicate where the Admiral's forces left to. Keep an eye out for supplies too, rations, fuel, anything. The more the better." He got out of his command seat and exited through the command bridge corridor.

Mal stared at his navigations terminal. He'd better wait a few minutes before leaving his post just to be safe, or else the Major would be all over him about it. He continued to stare, until he finally grew bored of it. Mal lurched upwards and followed far behind Verrak out of the bridge. He clicked the comm cylinder on his collar, keying for Verrak. "Major?"

"What is it you want, Ensign." Verrak replied in his usual less than friendly tone. "I'm busy out here, these recruits couldn't scan a square kilometer of ground if their lives depended on it."

"Sorry for the interruption sir. May I leave my post temporarily?" Mal asked.

"Permission granted," Verrak responded shortly. "Be back at your post by the time the scanning crews are back aboard." He clicked off the comm link.

Mal sighed with a faint amount of relief. That went a bit better than could be expected from the short tempered Major. He continued through the unusually patterned corridor, and pressed a pad on a small door.

The usual delay came. "Who is it?"

"Jerot, it's Mal." He said. "Let me in."

The door slid open after a few seconds pause, Jerot staring at his terminal. "What is it you want?" He asked, not even looking up. "I'm kinda busy right here, I've got to keep up my pace in here or I get moved back to the insult contest."

"Thelcar is off duty and the recruits on the bridge don't know the faintest thing about hyperspace lanes. Its boring up there having to deal with people who can't even use the nav computer." Mal said, leaning against the door frame.

"Come in farther," Jerot invited. "You might as well lean against the wall unless you plan to be smashed." The door began to slide closed, and Mal jumped away from it. "I've changed the door to automatically close, its very annoying when Verrak marches in here and forgets to close it."

"Yeah, Verrak is really annoying." Mal said, releasing a few thoughts. "Can barely tolerate that guy. If he were a bit more talented his attitude would match that of an admiral's."

"Just don't say that around him." Jerot said. "I don't want to see you confined to quarters like Thelcar."

"Anyways, how's that droid program thing going?" Mal asked, peering over Jerot's monitor. "You have to tell me, I can't understand that gibberish."

Jerot sighed. "Just like anything else that could happen when you're forced to develop a hyper intelligent droid while being around bickering engineers half of the time. There are still a lot of kinks in the system."

Jerot's comm cylinder burst to life. "Crewman," Verrak's voice blasted through. "I've got something for you. We've found a collection of datacards buried in the center of the former base. You are to repair and decrypt them, find any clue as to where these Warlords disappeared to. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir," Jerot replied, and added, "Can you please let me get back to work? I've got a droid to finish, and my schedule has already been set back a while."

"Request acknowledged and accepted. But next time be a little more respectful." The comm link cut off, keeping Verrak from lecturing him on protocol.

"You shouldn't have done that." Mal said. "The moment he's back aboard you're gonna see his full fury." Mal pushed himself away from the wall and opened the room door. "I'll see you later. If you need any tactics on hyperspace micro jumps I'll be able to help." The door slid shut.

The corridors were nearly empty as usual, all of the below-hundred member crew at their posts. Verrak was making sure none of them forgot Imperial protocol; fresh uniforms, saluting to superiors, staying at your post. At times it could be quite annoying, though it was much better than dealing with rebels. Live rebels.

Footsteps began coming from the far end of the corridor. Sounds were coming from the direction of the boarding ramp, no doubt Verrak returning to his position and delivering the datacards to Jerot. Mal rushed back to his post, brushing past anyone who might have been in the halls. There were very few people obstructing the way. He arrived at his post, passing through the patterned corridor, and sat down, panting lightly from the run.

* * *

The alarm notified him of Verrak's arrival before the door was even keyed. Jerot, preparing for the Major, began organizing his small computer station and shelves. There wasn't much to be organized in the small room, and no personal items because of their imprisonment. It was just an empty room. It wasn't Imperial Grey either.

The secondary alarm notifying that someone had accessed the keypad began blaring, but the door didn't open. "One minute, Major." He said, trying not to annoy him. "Let me deactivate the security."

The door burst open, with Verrak's standard angry face staring through. "You know how I feel about unauthorized tampering." He said, tensely. "Remove your 'security' system and let me in here as I please. I'm the commander and I can enter whichever room at whatever time I want. Am I clear?" Verrak glared at Jerot.  
"Yes sir." Jerot responded simply, retaining his usual tone and avoided showing any sign of intimidation, which further aggravated Verrak. "Do you have the datacards? I'm ready to reconstruct them." He flipped the terminal out from its slot.

"There will be no need for reconstruction, only decryption. These cards haven't been damaged the slightest bit, according to the scouting party. The Admiral at least knew how to keep things safe, without security." Verrak began to turn around, and an officer following him dropped a small, metal crate on the floor.

Jerot began to rummage through the container, looking at the datacards. "Sir," He began to ask. "What is Ralethos Prime?" He gave Verrak an unexpected, unknowing look.

The Major turned around, opened his mouth and hesitated. "I have no idea. Reconstruct it, then send it to me. I am the first to know what's on those cards, and no one else. Except of course, you. Since you're the only one who can decrypt anything with any efficiency on this ship." He swiveled back around, heading out the door, the other officer following.

Jerot sat back into his bed-chair hybrid. He connected the datacards to his terminal, and began his process of decryption. File after file, he continued his attempts. All the files could be decrypted, but Ralethos Prime was very stubborn. The only code that could be that stiff would be Palpatine's private files.

He continued trying to decrypt the file, but the file continued to randomize its encryption codes every failure. The perfect defense to prevent unwanted slicers getting into the files, randomize the codes every time someone may have found the doorway.

Jerot finally gave up. Blitzer Harrsk had relocated to Atravis. The Pentastar Alliance had been conjoined with the Empire. Blah blah, stuff that might be interesting to Verrak. He collected the decrypted files and sent them to Verrak.

Jerot closed the terminal, taking a rest from the impossible file. He got up, keyed his door open and exited into the brighter corridor. The mess hall was a great place to help you concentrate. He headed through the halls, into the center doorway of the corridor pattern. The mess hall was housed there, small and cramped, but there was food. Jerot went through the buffet, taking some of everything. He shoved all he could onto his plate before sitting down. Taking two trips, he set the dish down onto the table and went to receive a drink. A nice steaming cup of tea would do. He sat down, concentrating on enjoying his meal.

The joy of eating was cut short by the mess hall door opening, and the engineers entering. The bickering engineers, the ones who could never get anything done without someone to break up their fighting. If only Ordol would improve his attitude... And just to improve the situation, Ordol was with them. Let the fighting begin.  
Ordol walked hurriedly to the table Jerot was seated at. Not much later, the ass-engineers followed. Abano and Sylvain, Ordol's best friends. That is, if you believe in sarcasm. "Hey squint." Sylvain greeted Jerot. "How's your buddy doing? I think you should help him a bit, he doesn't seem to catch the idea he should jump out of the airlock." Abano laughed in response, slapping Ordol on the back.

Abano grabbed a piece of bread from Jerot's plate, and shoved it into his mouth. "How can you eat so much?" He asked, "You'll get fat if you eat like that too much." He brushed the plate off the table.

Ordol grabbed Jerot's tea and dumped it onto Abano's lap. The engineer yelped as the hot water made contact with his thighs. He quickly recovered and rose from his seat, leaning on the table. "Big mistake, Ordy. Big mistake." He shot his arm out at him, catching him in the jaw.

Jerot quickly got up too, Sylvain doing the same. Ordol was delayed a bit, rubbing his jaw, staring at Abano. "A protocol droid can punch better than you."

Abano struck again, Ordol just continued to stare at him. A few more punched began to show bruising, and finally Ordol retaliated. He threw several quick jabs right into Abano's abdomin, causing him to lurch over and smash his face directly into the table. Jerot tried to help, punching into Sylvain's side. Clearly, he wasn't as strong as he thought. Sylvain responded with a punch, colliding right into the side of Jerot's head, sending him crashing to the floor.

Ordol moved several paces from the table before running at Sylvain and kneeing him. Sylvain responded by bending over, but quickly bringing an upper cut into Ordol's jaw. The blow was hard, but not hard enough. Ordol send a flurry of punches into his opponent's chest, pushing him back against the wall. He kept sending them, into the chest and face, until Sylvain slumped to the floor.

Ordol, breathing heavily, knelt down next to Jerot. "Get up, Jerot." He said, shaking him. No response. "I said get up." He sat next to him for another half minute, before beginning to panic. He put his hand on Jerot's neck; there was a pulse. Orold clicked the comm cylinder on his collar, queing up the medical bay. "I need a medic in the mess hall right now." He ordered, or at least requested.

Ordol just sat there, in the mess he had made. His friend unconscious, his enemies groaning, one with multiple broken bones and most likely a concussion. Because he knew how to run a ships systems, and they wouldn't accept it. Just what he needed, enemies and a reprimand from the Major.


	7. Chapter 7

He thought. That's the first thing he could remember. Thousands of thoughts, interesting and repulsive. But what else does the mind have to do than wonder and theorize when it cannot control the body. Jerot opened his eyes, blurred vision returning to him. He wasn't in his quarters, it was much too bright and had more space.

The medical officer noticed Jerot's awakening. "Time to wake up, eh?" He asked, jokingly. "Four days is a long time to sleep, and the Major wants you back on duty quickly. Cooperate with my tests and we'll both get out in better shape than with delays." He said, trying to be amusing, then turned to a monitor.

Jerot ignored him, paying more attention to the transparent tube that was pumping clear fluid into his forearm. He tore it out, throwing it over the side of the cot. Quickly, he sat up, and threw himself over the edge as well. The medical officer blocked him, urging him to sit down. "Stay there, I need to check the analysis and make sure you're fit for duty."

"I am fit for duty." Jerot responded clearly, glaring at the officer. "Make the examinations quick, I'm leaving in twenty minutes." He sat down, letting the officer feel his injury and re-examine the medical information.

"You know," The officer began, "That blow really rattled your head. I'm surprised you've recovered this quickly."

"I am a man of extraordinary ability." Jerot responded shortly, closing his eyes. He let himself remain in silence until he counted the twenty minutes as over. He rose, and despite the medical officers objections, exited the medical bay. Jerot halted, and turned around. "You will tell the Major that I am returning to duty." He said, with an air of command in his voice.

"I will send him the correct assessment of your physical and mental state, and I deem you unfit for duty." The medical officer replied, attempting to change his voice to that of a strict officer, but failing.

"I am perfectly fine. Take a quick look at the medical records, you'll see nothing wrong. Perhaps you are surprised by my sudden change in personality?" Jerot said, cocking his head to the side slightly. "Do not worry, I have it completely under control, I find this corner of my mind to be much more efficient."

"If you have developed a multiple personality disorder, then you must be removed from active duty. Mental disorders most often lead to violence and cognitive instability." The medical officer responded, ever trying to match the tone of a superior.

"If you believe me to be unstable, so be it. I will not let my duties fall further behind due to your worries." Jerot said cooly, turning to exit the small medical bay. "And, medical officer," He continued. "I would recommend that you stay in your own area of expertise. Last I knew, you were not an expert on psychology." He walked out.

Jerot continued through the corridor to the engineering section. Only Ordol was there, the other engineers must have been in their quarters or stuffing their faces with military rations. "Hey, Ordol." Jerot greeted his friend. "Get in too much trouble?"

"Jerot!" Ordol exclaimed, rushing over to greet him. "You feeling any better? We were all kinda worried about you back there." He gave Jerot a quick slap on the back and hurried to return to his work station. "The chassis of the omnidroid is just about complete. The programming is somewhat behind though."

"I'll get right on that." Jerot replied, returning to a computer terminal. "Where are Abano and Sylvain?"

"Sylvain just got out of the med bay a few hours ago, a few broken bones. Abano has been back on duty, but seems to have decided to work elsewhere." Ordol said, shrugging. "He's probably in some of the maintenance tunnels somewhere."

"Where's Gaen?"

"He's sleeping. You know, its not even 4 on the chrono." Ordol made a gesture, hitting himself. "Your sleep schedule is off."

"Ah." Jerot replied, "Did Abano and Sylvain get in trouble at all?" He asked, tapping at his computer terminal.

"Not really." Ordol responded, disappointedly. "They both say I started the fight, and that you're too close a friend to provide an unbiased opinion." He sat and leaned back in his chair. Ordol had a nice seat in engineering when taking the night shift. "You know, its kinda nice to be alone here. Being alone keeps people from pissing me off, its a nice feeling not to want to beat someone to the Maw."

"I've never really felt that feeling before." Jerot sighed. "I've never really disliked anyone, they all seem decent enough until you're put in a position where you need to take sides." His mouth ran as his fingers tapped furiously.

"I feel that all the time." Ordol replied, staring at the ceiling. "There's always some flaw I can find in people. I guess its just my skill."

"That and being a great engineer." Jerot replied, half smiling.

"True, true." Ordol closed his eyes. "I do like to think of myself as such. At least it keeps me from hating everyone."

"Do you really think the Empire is doomed to collapse because of all these warlords and rebels?" Jerot asked. "I think we have a chance, we've still got a few admirals who never got any higher in the ranks."

"I guess we might be able to make a resurgence, but its very unlikely. The Imperial Navy is what now, a thousand Star Destroyers? Maybe two thousand? The rebels are making a major offensive, and we can't hold out much longer -" The DP-20's comm channel cut him off, an alarm noise blaring.

"All crew to battle stations! All crew to battle stations! Rogue starship incoming! Class, Praetor Mark Two, on vector one-eighteen mark nine-eight!" It blasted throughout the ship, before the floor began to rumble. Turbolaser fire had begun to strike the small vessel's hull.

Jerot shot out of his seat and bolted through the engineering section. He made it to the door before Ordol noticed and questioned him. "What are you doing?" He called.

"I'm heading to the bridge." Jerot shot back, "I'm gonna get us through this, just trust me." He hurried through the corridors, now bustling with activity. Tactical stations had become visible from the irregular wall paneling. The bridge was a short run from the engineering section, approximately sixty meters. Jerot clicked on his comm cylinder. "Major. This is Crewman Jerot Ruana. Are you on the bridge?"

The expected angry response shouted through the small speaker, though with a hint of frustration. "Yes, of course I am. What are you doing outside of the medical bay?" Verrak demanded.

"Nothing that won't benefit us. Once I'm on the bridge, I will take control of navigations, communications and tactical. Or would you like me to take the command chair?" Jerot said cooly. "I will be on the bridge in twenty seconds. I hope to see you trust me. Ensign Ruana out." He cut off the comm link before Verrak could protest. It didn't matter how much Verrak protested as long as they made it out alive.

The bridge door slid open with the usual hiss, and Jerot hurled himself in. "Major?" Jerot asked, walking over to the primary tactical station and gesturing politely for the acting officer to move. The officer only looked at Verrak, who gave him a hard stare. He glanced at Jerot, then back at his station. "I guess I will have to deal with giving advice. There are one hundred and twenty TIE series Interceptors aboard that craft, assuming it hasn't been changed. We have ninety-six fighters and sixty concussion missiles. Keep all of our ships slightly out of range of the Praetor's heavy weapons, and have the fighters destroy the incoming swarm. Use missiles sparingly."

"Crewman," Verrak shouted, his face turning red. "You do not have the authority to order this operation!"

"Sir," Jerot began respectfully. "If you wish to survive this battle, I suggest you follow my orders and ignore your flawed chain of command." He didn't even turn to face the Major. "Send the fighters."

The bridge officers hesitated, sparing glances at the enraged Major, and ignored Jerot's orders. "Major?"

"Open a full barrage of missiles." Verrak ordered. "Hold the fighters back, and hold our ground."

"Sir," Jerot said. "I advise you follow my suggestion. It will lead to a much more favorable outcome."

"Open fire." The Major commanded, ignoring Jerot.

The DP-20 shook slightly with the missiles exiting their shafts. On the bridge viewport, the missiles flared by and crashed into the targeted fighters, all sixty missiles only destroying thirty of the TIE Interceptors. The rogue fighters began their charge against the Gunships, spraying them with laser fire. As the Praetor grew closer, the heavy turbolasers began to rock the ship once more.

"Fighters, full speed towards the Interceptors. Bombers, destroy the heavy guns on the Praetor." Verrak barked.

The X-Wings, A-Wings and E-Wings sped towards the Interceptors, locking onto their own targets. The Y-Wings shot past the main group, heading to the Battlecruiser. The underside of the Praetor seemed to swell, then subside. Twelve fighters came into view, TIE-Raptor series, signified by their near wingless bodies. Flurries of missiles came from them, locking onto the Y-Wings, tearing them apart. The main group of Interceptors continued their battle against the fighters, until the Raptors arrived. As the Praetor became dangerously near, the fighters seemed to grow slower. Then, half of the TIE fighter group broke off, and began focusing on one of the Gunships.

"Sir, you realize you have destroyed our chances of making it out of this battle alive? Unless you order a full retreat, there will be nothing left of us." Jerot said, staring out of the viewport.

"Do you have any other suggestions?" Verrak demanded.

"Only if you're truly desperate." Jerot responded, turning his head towards the Major.

"What is it."

"Send the other DP-20 into the swarm of fighters and detonate its reactor."

The Major looked at Jerot, bewildered. "I will not kill one hundred men!"

"Would you rather die yourself and sentence two hundred more to death? Consider it logically, Major. We suffer less if we sacrifice one of our ships." Jerot walked over to the Major.

Verrak just sat there, watching the battle ensue. Finally, he sent out the order. "DP-20 Number Two, head into the fighter cloud and detonate your reactor. You will destroy the TIEs, and our fighters will withdraw and retreat." There was a quiet acknowledgement as the Gunship dived towards the fighter swarm, engines glowing. It reached its target, all their fighters pulling back, and exploded. The TIEs shattered, disintegrating in the plasma fires of the Gunship's reactor.

"All fighters, prepare for hyperspace jump. Coordinates are being transmitted now."

And within ten seconds, all the fighters disappeared in a flicker of pseudomotion, and the Praetor was left alone, with only the destroyed fighters and DP-20.

* * *

The battle had been an unexpected failure, he observed from the Lost Warrior's bridge. The Pellaeon Loyalists had struck a moderate blow against such a powerful ship. Ten full squadrons of fighters destroyed. The officers would surely pay for their incompetence. "Lieutenant Usra. Come here." He demanded. "I see you have failed in your attempts to destroy an insignificant strike force."

"Sir, it will not happen again. I promise you." Usra lowered himself to his knees, "I promise I will not-" He was cut off by his own screaming. Blue bolts of lightning flew from his assailants hands directly into his face and down his body, and he lay there on the floor, writhing in pain.

"I am sure you will not fail me again, as you will never have the chance to." A hard voice whispered. "Why can you not obey your Master?" He asked, in a mock-sympathetic voice. "Your incompetence is your death." Another volley of blue bolts came from his fingertips, scorching the officer beyond recognition.

"Master," The officer beside him whispered. "We should continue, there are plenty of targets to destroy."

"Yes, there are." The one clearly in command replied, thoughtfully. "Set a course for the Tsoss Beacon. I see we shall find much use in that area in the immediate future."

"Yes, Master Hallis. At once."

**Note: If there is any incorrect spacing, single spaces or paragraphs, I apologize. Writing on two separate computers and transferring them to each other doesn't always result as it should. **


	8. Chapter 8

"Report!" The Major shouted across the bridge angrily. His face was as red as it seemed possible, he was on the verge of exploding. "Losses, I want the full report now!"

The officer at the tactical station began flicking through the battle log, compiling all the losses together. "Sir," He began, "We've lost two squadrons of Y-Wings, three E-Wings, eight A-Wings and seventeen X-Wings, along with the DP-20 Two." The officer said, slowly quieting his voice around the end, preparing for the Major's rage.

"Ruana." Verrak said, unusually calmly. Deadly. "We've lost nearly half our task force. Why didn't you do anything?"

"I tried, sir." Jerot replied. "You didn't listen to my advice. My suggested course of action would have destroyed their fighter squadrons and left us with half our missiles, rather than none." He stared out the viewport, then turned his head to Verrak. "Major, if you had let me assume command, we would have experienced minimal losses."

Verrak's eyes flashed at the prospect of an engineer taking command of his strike force. In his eyes, it was visible how many ways he was thinking of disposing of Jerot. "Crewman, I order you back to the medical bay." He said, resorting to removing Jerot rather than thinking of a valid argument against him. "Medical bay. Now."

"I will not go," Jerot replied, glaring at Verrak. "Your so-called medical officer is no more than a field medic, and has no expertise in the psychological aspect of medical science. If you wish for me to seek help for my disorder, then you must find a _real_ psychologist or neuro scientist." He slowly walked towards Verrak, and whispered into his ear. "If you do not hand me the command, I will personally deal with you. None of your crew respects you for your ability, only your rank. Once I have demonstrated that I am a better commander, you will have no choice but to resign. Do not even attempt to imprison or execute me, I actually have allies on this ship." Jerot pulled his head away from Verrak, and left the bridge.

Ordol was still in the engineering section, working with his machinery. "How bad is it?" Jerot asked. The reactor was working at its full extent, a loud him resonating around the room. There were several buckles in the ceiling where shrapnel from the other Gunship collided into the hull. "Looks like only exterior damage, maybe some overheating if we keep this pace."

"My thoughts exactly." Ordol replied, inspecting the buckles. "No hull breaches, but maybe a few micro fractures. Other than that, I believe our ship will fare well." He lowered himself from the catwalk. "How did the battle go?"

"Verrak decided to rush in with full force and ended up losing half of our force." Jerot sat down at one of the computer terminals. "Other than that, we are quite obviously alive. Now there are only a few bugs that need ironing out in this program."

"Is the prototype ready?" Ordol asked, walking over to Jerot. "Transfer the program to our droid and we can begin testing."

"The codes are quite complex. You want something that can control an entire ship, navigations, communications and weapons. Until I absolutely complete this, it will only be able to control one system at a time. Synchronization is the problem here, to control such a large structure and coordinate everything at once." Jerot leaned towards the terminal screen, squinting. "Too bad I'm the only real slicer aboard this ship who knows anything about reprogramming."

"Imperial Intelligence isn't as common as it may seem. Only one out of every fifty officers are trained with slicing, decrypting and mechanical skills." Ordol said, leaning over Jerot, staring at the terminal. "I need that done in twenty hours. That's our estimated time of arrival to Atravis."

"I will do my best, though I can't promise it will be done." Jerot replied, fingers speeding up slightly.

"That's all the time you can get for this, once we're there, we will be handing the prototype over." Ordol headed back to the buckles in the ceiling. "I just hope this doesn't become the fleet standard."

"It won't," Jerot smiled. "Remember the Katana Fleet? That was a disaster, I don't think anyone wants to risk that again, especially with actual Star Destroyers and Battlecruisers."

"Point. But the Empire is very low on soldiers, this could become the standard for a long while. Imagine if something went wrong, or the rebels figured out how to control our systems." Ordol theorized.

"I've added enough encryption that they should have no chance at even seeing that there is a droid in control. A protocol I installed was to heat any unoccupied rooms to the average human body temperature. It will prevent any scanners from detecting the lack of humans aboard."

"Where the hell do you even come up with these ideas?" A voice yelled from the catwalk.

"Gaen, you need to stop doing that." Ordol yelled, startled. "How'd you like it if I smashed this open? I don't think any of us would like to be in a vacuum." Ordol and Gaen Continued their discussion, conversing about structural integrity, reactor efficiency and firepower.

"Get back to work, you two." Jerot said, turning to the catwalk. "This room is all about progress. The bridge is for talking." And so Gaen and Ordol returned to fixing the hull damage while Jerot created the droid.

* * *

The intercom announced the arrival to the Atravis system, along with the tractor beams. An Imperial-II Star Destroyer gave them the pleasure of being towed into the newly established port. There were eight other Star Destroyers, and the hangar lacking, turbolaser covered Tector, in a massive ribcage hangar. That wasn't a very common design, but with the development of the Imperial Civil War, portable capital ship repair hangars would be necessary. The Star Destroyer guiding the DP-20, the _Resilient_, opened its lower hangar and absorbed the Gunship.

Finally, a real Imperial vessel. The symbolic Star Destroyer in its standard grey. The interior hangar was filled with TIE Interceptors, Bombers and Raptors, along with several landing shuttles and barges. It was good to be among Imperial technology once more. The docking clamp connected with the DP-20, and with a thud, they were able to board the massive capital ship.

As the docking clamp connected, the airlock doors opened and the grey clad Imperial officers boarded the ship. They were followed by a high ranked officer with the rank insignia of a lieutenant colonel, and soon after came an inspection crew with their examination equipment. They hooked the equipment up to terminals and began scanning the ship, while the colonel, with four storm troopers, headed towards the bridge. "Where is your commanding officer?" He questioned a random crew member.

"The command bridge, at the head of the ship. To the right an all the way down the corridor." The officer replied. The colonel continued to the bridge, dismissing the officer. Jerot burst through the halls, attempting to catch up with the inspection team. They were nearing the bridge blast door when he arrived. He slowed his pace, matching the others.

The blast doors opened and Verrak appeared. "Is this just an inspection team, or will I meet your superior?" He demanded.

"Major Verrak," The colonel began. "I am Lieutenant Colonel Janizevski. You will refer to me as Colonel. Answering your question, the Admiral will hold a meeting with you in three hours. In the mean time, your ship has taken damage and is required to be repaired, by Imperial Protocol, if you haven't forgotten. When the inspection is complete, you will order your navigations officer to guide the vessel towards Repair Dock B-07, and you will leave the ship." The Colonel ordered, preventing Verrak from interrupting. "Am I clear?"

"Yes sir." Verrak responded simply. He showed much more respect towards superiors than subordinates. "May I ask a question, Colonel?"

"Permission granted." The Colonel replied. "What do you wish to inquire about?"

"I have two officers who are pending to receive disciplinary action, but have only been able to confine one of them to quarters and the other to his work place, as he is a necessary part of the crew." Verrak said, glancing over the Colonel's shoulder at Jerot. "Do you have any… Punishments, that would only take several hours and be effective enough to make the message clear?"

The Colonel rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Yes, in fact, we do. Though we don't use it very often. May I ask what these specific crew members actions were?"

"One had violated my personal files, Lieutenant Thelcar is in his quarters." Verrak said, pointing to the doorway several meters from the command bridge. "The other, Crewman Ruana, is currently behind you. He attempted to take command of the ship."

"I did no such thing," Jerot responded calmly, not even shifting his legs with unease. "I advised the Major to follow my course of action, which he did not follow and resulted in heavy losses. The Major is discontented with his own failure, and has decided to blame me."

The Colonel turned to Jerot. "Ah, is that so?"

"No, it isn't." Verrak retorted angrily. "He interfered with my direct orders and commanded an officer to do something other than I had ordered."

"Would Crewman Ruana's strategy have led to a more favorable outcome of said battle?" The Colonel asked, glancing at both of their faces, evaluating expressions.

"Yes, it would have, sir." Jerot quickly responded. "Would you like a copy of my plan and the expected outcome compared to the Major's course of action?"

"No-" Verrak said, attempting to stare Jerot into submission before his words were cut off by the Colonel.

"Please send it to my datapad. My transmission code is 7-1381Aurek. If your suggested course of action is calculated to have had an outcome of less casualties, then you will be removed from your probation and further punishment of the matter. But for you, Major," The Colonel said, turning his gaze to Verrak. "You will receive all requested and received punishment intended for this Crewman. But if it turns out to have no different an outcome, punishment will proceed as requested."

Jerot stood there at full attention and clearly said. "I will, sir. And I assure you that the outcome would have been much better."

"As you may have noticed, our policies in Zero Command are slightly different than that of the original Galactic Empire." The Colonel continued. "Until this matter is resolved, you two will be monitored, but free to wander where you please. Have a fulfilling day." He said before turning and walking off.

The moment the Colonel and his escort disappeared, Verrak's eyes shifted to Jerot. "Crewman… Your probation has been suspended until further notice."

"Thank you, sir." Jerot said before heading off. Now for the matter of the tactical analysis. It could be done in less than ten minutes, starting the moment he reached his quarters. From there, he copied down his plan in precise detail and the estimated outcome. He finished, copied down the Colonel's transmission code into his terminal, and delivered the file. The display showed that the message had been sent, and he shut the terminal off, closing it and rising from his bed in one movement.

Jerot clicked his comm. "Ordol, I'm off probation. Want to meet in the mess-hall before we get to the station?"

"I'll see if Mal can come too. We haven't met all together since Carida." Ordol responded.

"Okay, I'll see you two there." Jerot concluded.

Jerot set out to the mess hall, not hurrying to arrive. It could take some time for both Ordol and Mal to get there as well.

The mess-hall was empty as usual. Very few people actually stayed there and ate, preferring to eat in their own quarters. He took a plate and piled food onto it, set it on a table, and got a drink from the drink dispenser. Within several minutes Mal and Ordol had reached their destination.

"Hi." Jerot said, as Ordol sat down. Mal took a plate and got his food before sitting down.

"I guess I'm the only one not eating." Ordol said, before getting up to fetch his own meal.

"So, Zero Command." Ordol began.

"Yeah. So far the disciplinary system is different." Jerot replied.

"Why, did you get out of that hellhole?" Mal asked.

"Just barely, and probably just for now." Jerot answered, forking his food.

"Verrak isn't going to let you go." Ordol stated.

"That's what this new disciplinary system might resolve. If I'm found to be correct, Verrak is going to be punished. If Verrak is correct, then I'll be punished. You can't be punished for suggesting something beneficial." Jerot said, clearing up the situation.

"Well," Mal said. "I like this Zero Command better already."

"Admiral Harrsk is willing to see Verrak on the request to join his forces. If all goes well, then this will be out new home and command." Jerot told them of Verrak's meeting in several hours.

"Let's just hope it works out." Ordol said, back at the table with his plate. "I could get used to this system, and maybe even get onto a Star Destroyer. Those reactors have got to be great."

"It would be good to be able to navigate one of them, too." Mal followed up.

"I bet they actually have some intelligence officers and slicers here that could help with the droid." Jerot said, hopefully.

"When's Thelcar getting back on duty?" Mal asked.

"Might not be for another week if Verrak's current punishment holds out. If not, he might have one of those 'flash punishments'." Jerot shivered.

"Hopefully not. Those things sound horrible, at least what I've heard of them. Aren't they nearly the same as interrogation torture?" Ordol asked.

"That's what they say. Can't say for sure, never witnessed one." Jerot replied, taking a sip from his cup.

"Eh, lets focus on this new station. How many frigates and cruisers do you think are here?" Mal said.

"We can find out easily enough by asking someone here." Ordol threw in.

"That takes all the fun out of it. Lets bet on it. If I win, Jerot eats normal servings for ten days, and you Ordol, eat that Correlian casserole you always avoid. As your meal for ten days." Mal said, somewhat jokingly, but then with a straight face.

"If I win," Jerot said, throwing a mischievous smile at Mal. "You two have to eat mine for ten days."

Ordol cut in, "And if I win, both of you will call every person of a rank equal or lower to you 'My Lord'. Ten days. We have a deal?"

"Yeah," Jerot and Mal said in unison.

"Okay, your guess Jerot?" Mal asked.

"Ten Star Destroyers and eighty frigates." Jerot said.

"Ordol?" Mal turned to him.

"Thirty Star Destroyers and two hundred frigates." Ordol guessed. "Your turn Mal."

"Forty Star Destroyers and two hundred frigates." Mal said. "Now one of us has to find out from one of the officers at the station. I say Jerot does it."

"Yeah, he can go." Ordol said, glancing at Jerot. "You two are gonna have to call me 'My Lord' anyways."

Jerot got up from the table. "Fine." He said, heading out of the mess-hall. The DP-20 was still clamped into the Star Destroyer, and would be for another hour or so. The blast doors opened, and he passed through. There was an officer at the other end, no doubt keeping log of all the people who passed from ship to ship.

"Name and rank?" He asked, not even looking up from his datapad.

"Crewman Jerot Ruana." Jerot replied shortly, continuing on. The officer didn't stop him. "Oh, do you know by any chance how many Star Destroyers and frigates there are stationed here?"

"Fifty-four Star Destroyers and three-hundred-twelve frigates." The officer said. "Why?"

"Nothing really, just a bet." Jerot sighed. He turned and went back to the mess-hall, where Ordol and Mal were waiting.

Mal and Ordol sat at the table, staring at Jerot as he entered the room. Mal seemed to be able to tell that he won, by the expression on Jerot's face. "Did I get it right?" He asked.

"You were the closest." Jerot replied. "It's fifty-four and three-hundred-twelve." He sat down.

"Alright you glutton, time to stop eating." Mal said cheerfully. "And Ordol, time to stuff your face with your worst enemy." He said, happy in his victory.

**Note: I will be updating more often now that I have access to a laptop in school, probably every three days.**


	9. Chapter 9

"Your request is quite insignificant, but beneficial, nonetheless." The Admiral said, looking across the table at Verrak with his right prosthetic eye. It glowed ominously, an intimidating yellow, surrounded by scarring. "So long as you accept Zero Command as your sole loyalty, we will accept you into our fleet."

"Thank you, Warlord." Verrak assured him, getting up from the table, a hint of relief showing in his relaxed shoulders. "My ship and fighters are under your command, and we will not betray you."

"That is good to hear. I believe your services will prove useful in time, especially with the possession of rebel star fighters and craft." The Admiral stated, folding his hands together. "Dismissed."

Verrak continued towards the door, and out into the corridor. There was no hangar on the _Shockwave_, so it would be difficult to find the shuttle that would return him to his crew. Docking clamps were spaced at hundred meter intervals along the Tector-Class Star Destroyer's hull, all on standby for transports. Docking Clamp 1-Aurek was the one he was headed to, directly on the back of the command bridge structure. The airlock opened, and Verrak boarded the Lambda-Class shuttle.

With a hiss the airlock closed and depressurized, and the shuttle disconnected with a slight jolt. Verrak took a seat near the head of the shuttle, in range of the viewports. The Atravis defenses were amazing, no Golan Platforms but there were plenty of Star Destroyers. And they left the _Shockwave_ behind setting back to the _Resilient_. Verrak clicked his comm cylinder and queued up Thelcar. "Lieutenant." He snapped. "You are being transferred to the Star Destroyer _Defiant_. Leave immediately."

"Yes sir." Crackled through the long range comm transmission. "At once."

Verrak cut the link, and sat back in his seat, observing the shipyards. Three Dreadnought-Class heavy cruisers dropped flickered into view, dropping out of hyperspace. Their hulls were battered with many breaches and carbon scoring. The third looked as if it were on the verge of falling apart, the midsection nearly skeletal. Several tugboats pulled up beside them, and towed them into one of the ribcage repair docks. The rebels must be pushing hard. "Pilot, where did those Dreadnoughts come from?" Verrak queried.

"There are several hundred dreadnoughts stationed on the border with Teradoc's 'Greater Maldrood'. He's been trying to take this sector for a several months." He grunted. "Seems he's been pushing further."

"Ah." Verrak answered. The _Shockwave _pulled out of the ribcage hangar and turned towards the defense perimeter. "Where's the Admiral going?"

"Tsoss Beacon." The pilot told him. "Some meeting with all the other warlords."

"Alright." Verrak acknowledged. "How much longer until we get back to the _Resilient_?"

"Two minutes." He explained. "We may have to change course with the _Shockwave_ leaving the system. Even so, we should be there within five."

Verrak sat back and relaxed, waiting for the sound of docking clamps. The DP-20 was now his own ship, and deserved a name. _Silent_. That would do for now, she'd be called the _Silent._ His ship came into sight, and with a hiss and thud they docked.

* * *

"Master, how much longer must we wait?" An officer asked. His insignia showed he was a captain.

"Not much longer, Captain Zera. Indeed, we have waited some time, but patience will ultimately lead us to victory." Master Hallis assured his captain. "Have you stationed competent officers aboard this ship? It would be a shame if I had to execute another."

"Yes sir. I have my best men commanding the tactical systems currently. We only wait for your order to attack." Zera confirmed.

"Good." Hallis said, stroking his chin. "The moment Admiral Daala enters the station, notify me. I want to see her dead."

"Yes, Master." Zera mumbled. He relayed the orders across the Praetor's bridge. "Anything else, Master?"

"No, captain. You may return to your duties. I will be in my quarters, meditating." Hallis said, rising from the captain's chair and leaving the bridge.

Zera sighed with relief as Hallis disappeared. He could never be rid of that Jedi. He always acted as if he were the most powerful person aboard this ship. 'I am.' Whispered into his mind. That blasted Jedi could even read his thoughts. He would have to be more careful of even what he planned.

* * *

The _Shockwave _dropped out of hyperspace into the Tsoss Beacon asteroid base. The large outline of the relay station floated in the middle of it; the location of the meeting with all of the other warlords. A black Executor-Class Star Dreadnought waited, along with several Star Destroyers and Praetors. And a last ship dropped out of hyperspace, a Venator-Class Star Destroyer.

All of the other vessels began to deploy shuttles, all heading towards the Beacon. Following directions to arrive at the meeting point, Admiral Harrsk boarded his own shuttle. It disconnected and joined the rest, flying towards and landing in one of the Beacon's hangars.

The ramp lowered, and Harrsk descended. "Admiral Harrsk, welcome." A woman greeted him. "I am Admiral Daala. Are you prepared to engage in the peace talks?" She asked.

"Its _Warlord_ Harrsk to you." Harrsk growled at her, walking over to her. "Where is the conference room?"

"Sorry, _warlord_." Daala stressed the word sarcastically. "Follow me." She guided herself and Harrsk through the hangar towards one of the corridors to a meeting room. Conference room one, at the center of the station. This could bring an end to the Imperial Civil War, if all went well.

The walk took only several minutes, the speed boosted by several speed-walk pathways. When they arrived, the doors slid open automatically, revealing twelve other high ranking ex-Imperial officers. They all broke their discussions with each other to spare glances at the new arrivals.

"Hello, Admiral Daala, Admiral Harrsk." A man with a thicker body greeted with a slight nod of the head. "I trust you two are well?"

"We-" Daala began, before being cut off abruptly by Harrsk.

"We are just fine, Teradoc. Thank you." Harrsk said, declining the use of nodding towards the others to acknowledge their equal positions. "I see I am late for these arrangements, do you intend to brief me on them?"

"Of course." Teradoc responded. "Sit down."

Blitzer Harrsk took a seat at the conference table, observing each of the other warlords. "So, Teradoc" He grumbled, quietly. "Are you ready to remove your forces from my border?"

"No, Harrsk. Not just yet." Teradoc sighed. "It would be much better for both of us if you would just surrender and hand control of your fleet to me."

Daala began talking to the others in the background, but the voice of Sander Delvardus rose up in protest. "We will not hand our fleets over to you." He bellowed. "That is a ridiculous request, and I believe most of us do not find that to be mutually beneficial."

Teradoc and Harrsk turned their attention back to Daala. "Was this your plan?" Harrsk demanded, rising from his seat and slamming his fists on the table. "To gather us all and claim control of our fleets after you have killed us?"

The captain beside Daala spoke up. "Her intent was to gather the warlord fleets and unite them for a blow against the rebellion. If we cannot stand united, we will surely fall."

"Captain Pellaeon, do you really believe you have any command in here?" Harrsk jeered, settling down into his seat. "I believe you are the lowest rank of us here, its amusing you think you can order us around. Have you forgotten you weren't even able to control the remaining fleet over Endor?"

"No, I have not forgotten." Pellaeon began, focusing his glare at Harrsk. "You and the other so-called warlords tore-" He was cut off by the door opening and a sudden dark presence. The presence stopped the bickering, turning all attention to it.

"Imperials." The robed man barked. "You were gathered here to die at Daala's hand. I have seen it for myself." He walked to Daala who had turned around, and grabbed her throat.

"Who do you think you are, walking in on us?" Delvardus demanded. "I don't believe anyone requested your presence here."

"My presence is of my own will." He claimed, tightening his grip on Daala's neck. "If you are to survive, you will pull out immediately. I do not tolerate betrayal, and you may resume these talks later. Unless, of course, you wish to face my wrath as Daala has." He dropped her limp body to the ground, kicking it over. "Leave!" He shouted.

Several of the admirals rose from their positions and began heading towards the door, the others remained. Pellaeon tried to maintain a straight face when the master sat down beside him. "And you are?" Teradoc challenged, remaining seated.

"I am Master Hallis, and I decree this conference over." He threw several bolts of lightning at the warlord, who collapsed out of his chair onto the ground. Now was time to make an exit.

Harrsk bolted up from his place, heading for the door. These force users couldn't be trusted, they always knew too much for their own good. He headed to the hangar, which contained his own vessel and another small shuttle. Harrsk boarded his own, and ordered the pilot to return to the _Shockwave_.

* * *

The Star Destroyers began swerving away from their original positions, turning towards the edge of the asteroid field. The black Executor Star Dreadnought was the first to break away to hyperspace, but the Venator remained motionless. "Destroy the Venator, we will not allow Daala to escape." Captain Zera ordered. "Call Hallis to the bridge."

The bridge crew began scrambling to their stations, relaying the orders throughout the ship. One of them turned to the captain and announced, "Master Hallis is no longer aboard the ship. He took a shuttle and went to the station ten minutes ago."

"Why didn't you notify my of this?" Zera demanded, coming to the officer.

"I thought you already knew," He began. "Did he not tell you where he was heading when he left?"

"No, he did not." Zera said, turning back to sit in the command chair. "Open fire, and if his designated shuttle exits, send a fighter squadron to intercept and escort." He commanded.

"Yes Captain." The officer said, sending the orders.

* * *

The _Shockwave _broke into hyperspace, fleeing the system. Half of the other warships had followed the same pattern several minutes earlier, having been farther out of the asteroid field. "Return us to Atravis." Harrsk ordered across the bridge. "I don't want to see these filth again unless they are facing my fleet in combat." The _Shockwave_ dropped from hyperspace, making a change of course to direct itself to the Atravis sector, more specifically, the world Atravis. "I will be in my quarters if anyone of you require me." Harrsk exited the command bridge.

Walking through the corridor, he found his way to his quarters. They were the largest aboard the ship, and expanded by destroying several of the useless storage areas beside it. The door slid open as Harrsk approached to enter his spacious personal room. It was empty, except for holographic projections of warships that had fallen to his forces. He settled down in one of the imported sofas, letting himself relax in it, and doze off.

Relaxation and sleep were cut short by the announcement of their arrival in the Atravis system only eight hours later. Harrsk bolted up from his rest and returned to the bridge, where he would resume his command.

"Report?" Harrsk demanded, glancing at his captain.

"Nothing other than our return to Atravis." He announced, getting up from the command chair to let the Admiral take his place.

Harrsk took his seat, staring out of the viewport. The Atravis Sector Fleet was all gathered around the central world, hundreds of Star Destroyers and frigates. The entire fleet hadn't been assembled in one location before, even when they relocated from Kalist VI. He clicked his comm. "This is Warlord Harrsk to Atravis Sector Fleet. Who authorized for you to leave your designated patrol areas?"

The comm crackled. "We were told you had summoned us. Did you not?"

"No. Return to your previous designated stations immediately." Harrsk commanded. That was unusual, the fleet rallying under his unsaid order. There would be dire consequences for his impersonator as soon as he was discovered.

"Yes Warlord." The comm crackled and cut off. All of the ships that were not originally stationed on Atravis turned away from the world, and set courses to the perimeters of the sector. It was an amazing sight to see all the fleet at once.

"Captain, you will assume command for now. I am setting out to Hangar-Kesh. I have some business to deal with." Harrsk stated, rising and then leaving the command bridge. Back to the docking port and his personal shuttle. He arrived, entered and with a hiss and thud, the ship disconnected. It took a straight course through the now near empty shipyard towards one of the ribcage hangars.

Harrsk clicked the comm cylinder on his collar. "Major Verrak, will you be attending the conference in the hangar designated Kesh? It would be a shame if you didn't arrive. We will be discussing crew shifts, ship upgrades and repairs."

"I will arrive whenever you say I should be there. Will my ships be allowed to receive upgrades as well?" Verrak requested.

"We will discuss that at the conference. Be there in twenty minutes. Admiral out." Harrsk cut off the transmission, settling down in his seat. The Greater Maldrood will be attacking again soon, and he needed to figure out a way to destroy them or fight them off. It would be a difficult process, but not impossible. He tried to clear his mind as well as he could without Thoath kicking in. It was blasted hard.


	10. Chapter 10

"Captain Ardiff," Pellaeon demanded, turning to him from the _Chimaera_'s command chair. "Damage report."

The _Chimaera _had just made it out of the Tsoss Beacon asteroid and jumped to hyperspace after that disaster of peace accords. Several of the Star Destroyers there had opened fire upon each other, hoping to take out several rivals in the process. "No significant damage, Captain. Minor hull damage and several heavy turbolasers may take several hours to restore, but other than that, there is very little to worry about." Ardiff showed a slightly worried expression. "I assume the peace talks failed?"

Pellaeon shook his head. "More than failed, Captain. The backup plan didn't even proceed. We've lost our chance at reuniting the Empire, and Admiral Daala is dead." He tapped his command board several times. "Do you think we have any chance against the rebellion in this state?"

"No, Captain. This fragmented Empire will destroy itself long before the rebellion gets a chance to, thinking we can take on the rebels on our own is absolute arrogance." Ardiff replied stiffly.

"We will discuss this with the Moff Council. Daala placed orders for me to receive the position of Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet if anything were to happen to her." Pellaeon looked forward out of the viewport. "If we pool our resources with the rebels, we just might be able to destroy the warlords. I don't think we have many options."

"The Moffs will never agree." Ardiff warned. "They will only question your competence and overrule Admiral Daala's request for you to be the fleet admiral."

"What else do you propose?" Pellaeon protested, turning to Ardiff angrily. "Do you think we should throw away our remaining Star Destroyers against these foolish warlords? All they do is fight amongst themselves with no end in sight. I see it as our only choice. With an extra ally, we may be able to destroy those bickering factions, or at least bring them under our control."

"If you think it is necessary, I will not opposed your request to consult the Moffs." Ardiff sighed. "Who will we send to the rebels?"

Pellaeon stroked his mustache thoughtfully. "I will take the _Chimaera _and the _Relentless_ to Coruscant. Contact Captain Dorja and relay my orders. We will rendezvous at Bastion, then begin negotiation for peace, no matter what the Moffs decide. If the Moffs decide to outright oppose us, I will find a way to move them out of our way. As a great Grand Admiral once said, 'History is on the move. Those who cannot keep up will be left behind, to watch from a distance. And those who stand in our way… will not watch at all.' And in our case, the Moffs may not see the future we will create." He quoted his past commander.

"Yes, Captain." Ardiff replied, then began shouting orders to officers on the bridge.

Pellaeon sat back in the command chair, staring out at the streaked hyperspace. The _Chimaera_ dropped from it's previous course, made a quick turn, and was heading back to Bastion.

* * *

Jerot sat in the mess-hall, his plate half full. Ordol sat directly across from him, watching and making sure he didn't try and take more. "How do you like your new diet?" Ordol joked. "Think you could get used to eating like everyone else?"

"I guess its okay." Jerot replied, staring down at his plate. He ate slower than usual. "Why aren't you eating?"

"I'd rather not eat than try Correlian cuisine. I hate that stuff, never liked the spices they use."

"It's not much different from any other human food." Jerot said, forking the meat patty on his plate. "Its pretty good, but its an acquired taste."

"What," Ordol asked. "You're a master slicer and a food expert?"

Jerot shook his head. "No, just a master slicer. I don't know anything about making food, probably because of all the pre-made food on all starships."

"Why do you think I take interest in cooking? I don't know any officer who does. I take interest in eating, Ord." Jerot replied.

"Eh, whatev-" Ordol was cut off mid-response.

"Crew, this is the Major speaking." Called over the comm. "Some of you will be transferred to other ships, and we will be receiving replacement members for those who have been given the privilege to serve in Admiral Harrsk's fleet. I would like everyone to know, to be able to make adjustments." Verrak said, and then listed the names of crewmen being transferred. And then came the name 'Lieutenant Huff Thelcar'.

A jolt of surprise struck both of them. "Thelcar is being transferred?" Jerot murmured. "Well, Verrak has been keeping him out of the ships business for a while."

"Actually, its not very surprising." Ordol replied, calming down. "Verrak really seems to hate him, and now that he can get an actual replacement, I bet he'll use the opportunity. Why does he hate him so much?"

"He broke into Verrak's personal files and sealed records." Jerot answered, looking down slightly. "I helped him a bit."

"And you had Thelcar take the fall?"

"Well, he did do it on the bridge." Jerot pointed out. "It was pretty easy for Verrak to find out."

"So after that you broke in for him?" Ordol eyed him.

"That's just about it." Jerot stated.

"What's so important in there that you were so eager to find out? Something up with the Major?" Mal questioned.

"Nothing much. They were just looking at my files." Jerot leaned back, finished with his meal.

"And what's so important about you?"

"Just an ISB agent."

"You're joking." Ordol speculated. "You don't have the guts for that."

"Yeah, just messing with you." Jerot said, getting up. "If you wanna find out what was in that file, go learn how to find it." He headed away from the table and out into the corridor. At least Ordol didn't take him seriously enough to know he wasn't joking.

The Imperial Security Bureau, ISB, was near the top of the Imperial command chain, being given access to any resources they deemed necessary. They were vicious, didn't hesitate to kill innocents to cover their own backsides. And they've done that plenty of times before. ISB agents were trained in all the necessary skills to weed out information, from slicing to interrogation, and even strategic training. There was no way Ordol would think that of him. But it was good enough that most of those files were heavily encrypted and covered by the highest ranks in the Empire.

Jerot continued to the command bridge where Verrak was. He was sitting in the command chair as usual, attempting to maintain his air of superiority. Superiority that was far below that of an ISB agent. "Major Verrak. How nice to see you again."

"What do you want, Ruana." Verrak grumbled out. "I'm busy."

Jerot observed what he was doing; only sitting in the big chair looking over the bridge. "I don't see what it is you find so important in staring out of the viewport. We aren't even in battle. I suppose this is just an excuse to remove me from your attention?"

Verrak turned his head towards Jerot. "The analysis came back." He said, Jerot now noticing his face was paler than usual. "Your tactics have been run through ten different simulations of the same incident, and all worked successfully with minimal fighter losses."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Major. But it was your own fault, attempting to use inferior tactics and then redirecting blame towards me. It was only a matter of time." Jerot scoffed. "When is your 'flash punishment' scheduled?"

"I don't think that's any of your business." Verrak barked. "Just get off of my bridge, I've already filed a request for you to be transferred."

"As you command, Major. At least I might be stationed on a ship with a more… Understanding… Captain." He stated, turning to leave the bridge. "Major, I do believe that Admiral Harrsk will demote you to second in command of this ship. What I've seen and heard of him, he isn't very trusting. He will most likely place one of his own officers in your current position."

"I said," Verrak growled. "Get off my bridge."

Jerot left in a not-so-hurried manner. It really seemed to annoy Verrak that Jerot had no respect for his authority now. No wonder he wanted him off duty for medical leave, since he couldn't state his authority to a high ranked agent. The weak minded idiot couldn't even defend himself from Jerot properly.


	11. Chapter 11

Atravis was buzzing, silently, with the presence of hundreds of damaged ships. Several Praetor II Battlecruisers had been relocated to Atravis for protection, the thought ever present that the Greater Maldrood would attempt to assault the throne-world of Zero Command.

Over the course of six months, the _Silent_ had been greatly modified; Imperial grey, enhanced weaponry and targeting, the thinner parts of the ship's hull had been filled in with extra quarters and storage, and even two extra sublight drives had been installed. Completed with a long range scanning, intelligence and analysis station, it was a fighter-screening command center.

Verrak had been happy enough with the upgrades, though he himself was demoted. Not in rank, but relative rank aboard his own ship. Lieutenant Colonel Janizevski had assumed command, while Verrak was put in Thelcar's former position.

Jerot was now a Lieutenant, promoted by the higher ups of the warlord state, in command of the ships intelligence and data processing center. Admiral Fenda had even made Jerot a mandatory tactical advisor for Janizevski, making it so that his advice couldn't be silenced. At least some of the commanders had common sense. In any tactical situation, Jerot would be allowed to make his statements towards the commanders of the vessel without their consent, as per orders of Admiral Fenda.

The _Silent_ had been assigned to many reconnaissance missions recently, venturing into New Republic space to seek out weaknesses in their defense formations. The major shipyards, Kuat, Sluis Van, Bilbringi, Fondor, all those worlds were heavily defended. Except that if a package of omnidroids were inserted into a shipment heading to one of them, they could be adapted to burrow into the hulls of ships and take control, along with releasing dioxis into the bridge area.

Ordol's design had been turned into the Zero Command research and development team, and has been adapted for defense as well. It was greatly improved upon with weaponry and poison gasses, along with the more available alloys of the Atravis sector for a more stable chassis. According to their predictions, they would be able to take the seven Mandator II's around Kuat in another month. Within a year, they would have an automated fleet.

Even with the attacking warlord states surrounding Zero Command, they would dominate the others once the project was completed. There was also a specialized droid being created specifically to control the _Night Hammer_, and turn the tide even further. But until then, they would have to make use of their current resources to hold off the other splinter factions.

* * *

Five red Star Destroyers dropped out from hyperspace. Two Imperial II's and three Victory II's, all in the symbolic red of the Greater Maldrood. They sputtered laser fire and torpedoes, obliterating the opposing Star Destroyer above Mustafar. Red Star Destroyers, turning their opponents into red glowing shrapnel above a red planet.

The remaining Zero Command ships pulled away, starting towards the edge of the planet's gravity well. The red Star Destroyers attempted to pursue, but were too far away to catch them before they escaped to hyperspace.

Since the failed alliance negotiations at the Tsoss Beacon, the Greater Maldrood had resumed its assaults agains Zero Command, in a more furious manner than ever. Even the elite Crimson Command had been recommissioned for these strikes. On the other border, Delvardus had been attacking both Zero Command and the Maldrood, the newly created, stealth plated _Night Hammer_ wreaking havoc for both sides.

"Damage report!" The captain of the largest vessel commanded across the bridge, and was also relayed to the other ships.

"We've lost an Imperial I Star Destroyer, and two Strike Cruisers have taken heavy damage and are expected to drop out of hyperspace within thirty minutes." The response rang across the bridge.

"Order all ships to exit hyperspace when the other two are estimated to be unable to move any further. We will commence repairs at that moment." The captain ordered.

The other two ships disappeared abruptly; the estimation was off by about five minutes. "Exit hyperspace!" The captain commanded, barely seconds after they lost sensor contact with their following ships. "Find the other vessels!"

The Victory cruiser came to a halt, the white streaks of hyperspace coming to a halt. It quickly turned back in the direction it came from, preparing to create a hyperspace micro-jump. "Five second jump, on vector 23 mark 16." And with a flicker of pseudomotion, the vessel disappeared. Seconds later, it reappeared with the Strike Cruisers.

"Prepare to launch the repair teams. We want those ships online within six hours." The captain stated. "Lieutenant Thelcar, lead the repair team." He glanced over at the Lieutenant at his station.

"Yes Captain." Thelcar replied, hurriedly getting ready to leave the bridge. He continued out of the command section, taking a quick turbolift ride down to the hangar bays. All of the tech crew had boarded the shuttle already, having come from closer stations than the bridge. The moment Thelcar boarded, the ramps lifted and the shuttle took off. The ovoid Strike Cruisers came into sight, the damage to them obvious even from that distance. The engines were scorched and burning with plasma fires and their hulls were riddled with breaches. Thelcar's shuttle approached the underside of one of the cruisers; even the hangar was in bad shape. It would be difficult to board this particular cruiser.

"We are beginning landing in twenty seconds." The pilot announced over the comm, as the shuttle began to shake. "Our boarding will be rough due to damages to the hangar, but we will make it." He assured the passengers. With a thud, the craft landed, and a hiss signaled the ramp lowering.

The transfer hadn't been easy, but six months had been time enough to adapt. Thelcar now had his own large quarters and his own squads of troops, but his allies from Bilbringi were gone. He headed down the ramp and out into the hangar to coordinate the repair crew. Shouting out orders and stating priorities, he later found his way to the command bridge.

Surprisingly, the bridge was in good shape compared to the rest of the ship. It was nothing like the shape of the former _Executor_. The captain too was ordering his crew around, unaware of Thelcar. He turned and jumped at his sight. "Are you the commander of the repair crew?" He demanded.

"Yes Captain." Thelcar replied quickly, saluting. "Lieutenant Thelcar of the _Defiant_, at your temporary command."

"Settle down, boy." The captain ordered, turning back to his crew. "I'm Captain Tarsyt, and you will refer to me as such. Now get down to your repair team or whatever you've brought aboard."

"Yes Captain." Thelcar responded, turning to leave before the Captain interrupted him again.

"Lieutenant," Tarsyt asserted. "You will remain with your own crew and the repair teams while you're on my ship. I don't want any of your disobedience spreading."

"Yes, Captain." Thelcar replied simply. He resumed his short journey back to the hangar, now with less wreckage strewn across the floor. The repair crew was making good time, near finished with the hangar. Though the real problem would be the engines, since they were much more than clearing trash. He stood and observed the repair team, letting the threat of the Greater Maldrood sink in.

* * *

The newly constructed intelligence station was filled with computer terminals, all using the latest of Imperial technology. All were connected to each other, constant streams of data flowing between them, providing as much information on each as possible. One of the best intelligence posts in the sector stationed on a newly found Correlian Gunship. It was unusual for an Admiral to entrust new members of his fleet with such a gift.

Jerot sat at his central terminal, streaming the information from the surrounding computers to his. Information is power. The lieutenant glanced between the several screens, each containing a different summary of reports, from all over the sector. Though all information was periodically broadcast to Zero Command, it was a great place to hide away from the rest of the crew. And a perfect place to devise new strategies.

"Lieutenant." Rang through the comm to Jerot. The title was still unusual to him, having been only a crewman so recently.

"Yes, Colonel?" Jerot responded, scrambling to return to intelligence information. Strategic development had taken too much of his time, when he was supposed to be sorting through all of the incoming reports. But that wasn't nearly as interesting.

"Do you have any plans for breaching Kuat's defense perimeter?" At least Janizevski asked a question that was of his current interest. And most likely his only future interest.

"We can smuggle the droids in disguised as astromech or cleaning droids, you know how much the rebels like their droids." Jerot contemplated. "As long as we can forge where they're stationed, we will be able to assume command of their fleets."

"Can you get on making those files?" The Colonel queried. "Orders are to have the hijacking ready within four weeks."

"I think we can do that. We've intercepted enough communications from the rebels to reconstruct their superior's writing patterns. Along with their encryption types, we will be good." Jerot theorized.

"Just get those datafiles turned in as soon as they're finished, then we begin the attack." The Colonel cut off the comm without even stating the 'Colonel out' usually said when breaking off contact.

The monitors returned to their previous tactical formats, star maps, data on system defenses and fleet movements. On another monitor, it displayed only the currently necessary information, now being filled with data on rebel communications and writing patterns. Time to forge. It took several hours to develop the new shipping orders and placements, but it was easy enough. The rebels didn't even use very sophisticated encryption codes.

After the false orders had been completed, Jerot returned to his quarters. They had been expanded with the ship's upgrade; a half-sized bed that wasn't shoved into the wall, a full sized computer terminal complete with three folding monitors, and a fresher. Ship upgrades and promotions did have their perks. From there, he threw himself into his bed, and let himself drift off to sleep.

_Three black uniformed Imperial officers stood in a dark haze. Their rank bars seemed to shift between them, either the officers were moving around or they were continually changing ranks. The confusion broke the moment the heat in the room increased significantly, which happened quite quickly._

_ They sat down, staring at Jerot, asking him questions. Each time he refused to answer, the temperature increased. The scene quickly blurred, turning to the massive ecumenopolis of Coruscant, hazing corewards. Noises repeated in the process, mainly human sounds. The fog broke into an underground complex, filled with the same black uniforms of the previous wherever. And the halls were filled with the same rooms, screams coming from some._

Jerot snapped awake, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. For the past month this had been recurring, tormenting his sleep. But he couldn't place his finger on it; he didn't know what it was. Most of the time, at least. He sat up, staring at the chronometer. It had been only four hours. A bit more rest might do.


	12. Chapter 12

The High Admiral had called a meeting between all of his advisors and trusted officers. Unexpected to most of them, though, a young Lieutenant was invited as well. It aggravated them to have someone so much younger and inexperienced than them hold an equal voice. Vice Admiral Tel-Zih showed the most annoyance, being the intelligence operations leader.

"Your project is nearly completed, I trust?" Harrsk questioned, glancing at Jerot, then to Tel-Zih.

"Ye—" Jerot began, being cut off by Tel-Zih.

"Yes, it is near completion. It should be fully operational within three days." Tel-Zih said, throwing a quick, challenging glance at Jerot. "The freighter will finish it's adaptions at approximately the same time."

Jerot threw Tel-Zih a cold stare in response. "That is, of course, if no incidents occur."

"Was that a threat, Lieutenant?" Tel-Zih demanded, turning to him.

"No, Admiral." He replied cooly. "It was merely a fact."

"I would—" Tel-Zih responded angrily, before cutting himself off due to all of the other admirals presence in the room. He calmed himself down, returning his attention to the plan rather than confrontation with a subordinate.

Harrsk sat there, staring at them all with his prosthetic eye. "Will you two return to the report, or will I have to execute one of you for disrupting this conference?" The prosthetic eye turned red, narrowing.

"No, sir." Tel-Zih said hurriedly. "What else is it you would like to know?"

Harrsk maintained his gaze, before breaking it off and the eye returning to it's usual yellow. "I want a report on how many will be ready in the stated amount of time. Will we have enough to take all seven Mandators?"

"No, sir." Jerot replied clearly, avoiding Tel-Zih's attempts to make Harrsk think otherwise. "We are currently working on the _Night Hammer_ prototype. If we can get a boarding craft to burrow into the bridge of that vessel, we will have full control of it. We can then guide it back to Zero Command space and eliminate the current crew complement. Though it may be better to capture those one-hundred-thousand officers and imprison them."

"But that would impose a greater security risk upon us." Tel-Zih countered.

"If we can turn them for our own uses," Jerot argued. "Then we would have an extra hundred-thousand, human and trained officers. Our current course with recruitment will require us to have two thirds of our new ships' crews be comprised of aliens. That seems more of a security risk than brainwashed humans."

"Opinions noted." Harrsk answered, throwing glances between the two bickering officers. "Now, if you two would stop with your in-fighting, maybe we could move on to a different subject." He turned to one of the other officers sitting at the conference table. "Vice Admiral Vuull, you may begin."

"Thank you, High Admiral." Vuull began, signaling for a green holographic representation to appear. "Now onto the topic of Kuat and _Night Hammer_. We want to take control of the vessels with minimal casualties and damage. But, we don't want to lose the droids. Therefore, I propose we send Null Fleet as an escort, to follow five minutes behind. Then, if the droids happen to be detected, we can divert the defending fleet's fire until the droids get the chance to overtake them."

"On the other front," Vuull continued, the presentation switching. "The Greater Maldrood has been throwing all it has at us. Once we take the _Night Hammer_, we can cloak it and send it behind their lines, to kill Teradoc once and for all. The presence of the _Night Hammer_ will greatly turn the tide in our favor. I refuse to plan any further in advance, as events will likely change."

"Valid point, Admiral." Harrsk, said, concluding the meeting with a swift debriefing. He rose from his seat, leaving the conference chamber with his Vice Admirals.

Jerot was the last to leave the room, as it was customary to let your superiors exit before you did. Tel-Zih could be quite annoying, though he couldn't deny his skill, however inferior it may be. Heading out of the room, he queued a shuttle to return him to the _Silent_, where he could resume his strategizing.

* * *

Strike Cruisers may have been effective once, but they were near obsolete now. Their abundance of ion weaponry could be useful at times, but the trend now was to bombard enemies with turbolaser fire. The _Defiant_'s repair teams had just finished their work on the damaged vessels, and had returned to their home-ship. The two repair shuttles were docked in the Victory cruiser's hangars, all of their crews back at their original posts.

Thelcar was back on the bridge at his tactical feed, the captain nagging all of the crew's efficiency. He finally stopped, letting the bridge crew return to more efficient work with the absence of a complaining commander.

The _Defiant_ was headed back with it's fleet to the Atravis system for repairs, since they wouldn't be able to repair all of the hull damage. So far it seemed the Crimson Command hadn't pursued them, as they would have had plenty of time to catch up.

Thelcar's duty shift finally ended, allowing him to roam the ship. The Victory-Class frigate was big, ten times five times the length of a Correlian Gunship and far wider. The _Defiant_ even had trams inside it due to it's length, to ease the hassle of transportation within.

Captain Brodi decided to interrupt the free period with a summons to his quarters. Thelcar went reluctantly, expecting a horrible lecture on what he could be doing better. But to his surprise, it was quite the opposite.

"Lieutenant Thelcar," Brodi began, staring at him from the other side of his metal desk. "I have request for you to be transferred to another vessel. Not due to any disappointment of your capabilities, but I believe another ship could use you. The _Defiant_ has many fine officers, but others are lacking _human_ commanders."

"Where are you going with this, Captain?" Thelcar queried, cocking his head slightly.

"I am attempting to have you transferred to the Acclamator-II _Telos V_. The fleet is low on capable human commanders, and so I have recommended you for command." Brodi said, handing Thelcar the transfer orders.

"Does this involve promotion?" Thelcar asked him. "I don't think a lieutenant is fit to command such a vessel."

"It does, but not to the height of captain." Brodi replied. "You are being promoted directly to colonel upon arrival at Atravis. From there forth, you will have your own ship."

"Thank you, Captain." Thelcar responded, somewhat confused. "I didn't know you thought so highly of me."

"I don't show favor among my crew." Brodi stated. "I want my officers to work as hard as they will, and from then on I know who does their best. You haven't slowed in efficiency due to lack of reward, and because of that, I see you fit for command."

"Thank you, Captain."

"Dismissed." Brodi cut the conversation off, gesturing to the door.

Thelcar exited with mixed feelings. Both confusion and excitement were present, along with a hint of nervousness. His own Acclamator-II cruiser. But by the sound of it, most of the crew would be non humans, probably the reason he was being transferred to that ship. Having your own command was good, but not when no one else wanted to take it.

* * *

Two Star Destroyers dropped out of hyperspace with a flicker. _Relentless _and _Chimaera_ hovered above Coruscant, several MC90 Battlecruisers closing to intercept. The MC90 was a relatively new design, made to combat a Star Destroyer. It was partially successful, but with several major design flaws, particularly the smaller slope of the hull.

The _Relentless _and _Chimaera_ didn't open fire, only pass by the defending MC90s. Finally, one of the New Republic vessels opened fire on the latter. The weapons battered the _Chimaera_'s shields but did not succeed in penetrating them. The flurry of red bolts came to an end and the lead ship hailed the Star Destroyers.

"This is Admiral Ceresus. You are to stop your course immediately, or we will continue fire." Ceresus demanded, hoping to destroy two Imperial-II Star Destroyers with three MC90s. "I repeat, halt or we will continue fire."

"This is Admiral Gilad Pellaeon." The captain of the _Chimaera_ responded. "We are here with peaceful intent. If you will allow us to, we will send a shuttle to your ship."

"We will send our own shuttle to retrieve you." Ceresus replied shortly.

"If you say so." Pellaeon answered. "But may I bring several stormtroopers and officers with me? The officers will talk as well, if we get to a point of peace talks."

"No weapons. State your proposal now."

"I will only speak to Councilor Leia Organa Solo." Pellaeon half requested, and half demanded, patience wearing thin.

"I will pass your message on to the Councilor. Send your request and then leave the system." Ceresus ordered, still attempting to hold the high ground.

The _Relentless_ pulled away, while the _Chimaera_ continued towards the planet. The lead MC90 opened fire, sending it's useless barrage of lasers at the powerful shields of the _Chimaera_. The _Chimaera_ soon arrived within range of direct communication with the surface.

"This is Admiral Gil—" The MC90 began to jam the frequency, continuing it's assault. The _Chimaera_ finally retaliated, firing ion cannons and turbolasers at the cruiser, quickly tearing through the shields and targeting the communications arrays. The jamming field soon dissipated, and the transmission continued.

"This is Admiral Gilad Pellaeon to the New Republic senate. Captain Dorja and I request a hearing with the New Republic leaders, specifically Leia Organa Solo. We came here with peaceful intent, and only opened fire upon your defense fleet after they attacked us. The Imperial Remnant comes with an offer of peace."

The response was a long pause. A voice replied after several minutes. "This is Councilor Solo. We accept your request. Send a single shuttle with all of your representatives towards the surface. Several fighters will escort you towards the senate building. We hope this meeting will be fruitful." She cut the message off.

Nine years, and the rebels and Empire were making peace. Not in the way that either of they expected of course, the Imperial Remnant, still with a good portion of the galaxy, proposing peace. But finally the war was coming to a close, or just a cease fire. It didn't really matter, either would be good for both sides. Pellaeon let himself sink into his command chair for several seconds, letting the war-weariness take hold temporarily.


	13. Chapter 13

The designated shuttles for the Kuat siege were complete, along with their stocks of droids. The _Night Hammer_ control droid was to be sent out this day, followed by several Star Destroyers and constantly monitored by the _Silent_.

Lieutenant Colonel Janizevski kept sending orders throughout the Correlian Gunship. Crewmen scrambled around the ship; though they weren't the same as before, due to unit transfers and casualties. Ordol was back in the engine room, making sure all went well. Mal was at the command bridge that had been expanded and improved with Imperial standard terminals. Jerot, of course, was back in his own Intelligence Operations chamber.

The scrambling aboard the ship was largely because of the preparations for the _Night Hammer_ raid, which would require lots of readiness and coordination. If all failed, they would lose the droid, the transport ship, several Star Destroyers and the _Silent_.

The _Silent_ was an unexpectedly expensive ship, with it's improvised extra engines forming a plus at the rear, and the hull changes creating a slope from the engines towards the tip. Along with additional heavy weaponry and advanced computer systems, it was an amazing fleet coordinator. But that was never it's purpose.

"Prepare for jump to hyperspace!" Rang throughout the ship, and the soon to follow Star Destroyers. Vice Admiral Nik Vuull was leading the assault. He was more open minded than Tel-Zih, especially when it came to tactical advice. "Jump in one minute."

The rush for setting out to attack the _Night Hammer_ had died down, all the preparations having been completed. Only the jump, which had been announced and was in the process of coordinating, remained.

Jerot's Intelligence Operations chamber was abuzz with the clamoring of new recruits and veterans discussing information and plans, with the occasional yell for something completely unknown to them that often turned out to be an asteroid. New recruits could be very difficult, having none of the field experience of other officers. At least Tel-Zih had been kind enough to send several veterans, though he was also the reason for all of the incompetent recruits.

Around all of the crew, in all of the chambers, the lights blinked blue once to signal their jump to hyperspace. Preparations continued, though mostly weapon calibrations incase they encountered unexpected difficulties.

It took several hours for the _Silent_ and the fake-freighter _Quark_ to arrive where the _Night Hammer_ was stationed. They drew very little attention, other than the protocol identification requests. The Gunship and Freighter both succeeded in that small test, and were allowed to enter and roam the Yag'Dhul system. _Quark_ descended towards the black Super Star Destroyer, hovering past it's command bridge. The _Silent_ remained around the edge of the system, observing the scene.

Freighter _Quark_ suddenly exploded, manipulating Grand Admiral Thrawn's genius tactic of hiding mole miners in a stealthed transport. The droids sped towards the _Night Hammer_ in the confusion, reaching the hull before the turrets could react. Several seconds of blinding light ensued, and the droids had entered the bridge.

Of course, the Imperials took notice soon enough, several Star Destroyers began opening fire on the command bridge. On queue, Zero Command Star Destroyers entered the system, pelting the defending fleet in turbolaser fire. One of the defending Imperators shields crackled off, and the hull soon lit up in a glow of burning metal and plasma flames.

The _Night Hammer_ started it's engines, turning towards the edge of the orbital defenses. It was quite a sight, one that none of the Zero Command officers had seen since Endor, if they were some of the few to have survived. The Super Star Destroyer's starboard turbolasers began to fire, completely obliterating the opposing forces; a sight to behold. Within minutes of the _Night Hammer_ being overtaken, it had fled the system, it's crew imprisoned within their own, former ship.

Jerot's station had not done much in the combat, other than relaying orders from the outlying _Black Hand_. But Jerot couldn't resist throwing his own commands into the fray to make sure they succeeded with minimal casualties. After the _Night Hammer_'s escape, the assault force remained in the system temporarily, to continue inflicting damage upon Delvardus' forces.

Finally Nik Vuull ordered the retreat; the Star Destroyers turning tail and fleeing Yag'Dhul. As they neared the edge of the gravity well and prepared to jump to hyperspace, a Dominator-Class Star Destroyer came into view around the planet. Two Zero Command ships entered hyperspace only to drop out of it immediately afterwards, colliding. The Dominator had activated it's interdiction field, making hyperspace travel impossible in an extended area. Vuull continued ordering the ships towards the edge of the system, but the Dominator and Imperial-II's pursued, making escape an impossibility.

Jerot, observing the battle, finally intervened. "_Black Hand_, turn towards the Dominator and head towards it at full speed. Escape is not an option, and a Praetor-II will be able to absorb the damage from the Imperators. _Avenger_, make a dive on coordinates 14 mark 37 down 5. Focus all turbolasers upwards and open fire on my command."

The _Avenger_ continued on it's previous course, ignoring Jerot's orders. Vuull solved the issue, making it clear that Jerot had permission to give orders in dangerous tactical situations. The _Avenger_ took it's dive, and waited below the opposing Star Destroyers.

"_Helios_, coordinates 14 mark 37 up 5, based on our current plane. Make a 180 degree spin if possible and then have all weapons fire. Deploy fighters now. _Desolate_, Marg Sabl now. We don't want significant damage to the capital ships." Jerot ordered.

_Avenger_ and _Helios_ took their positions, the latter firing as much as it could. The _Black Hand_ made a rush towards the dominator, it's shields crackling as the four opposing Star Destroyers ravaged it's defenses. The _Desolate_ shifted onto it's side, fighters swarming out of it's bays.

The Praetor-II quickly dealt with the Dominator, blowing it's spherical implants into oblivion. Above and below, as far as can be explained in space, the Star Destroyers set their weapons firing at full power; turbolaser blasts, ion weaponry, missiles, torpedoes, everything they had was being launched at their enemies. The oversized _Desolate_ remained stationary, while it's fighter swarms continued to harass the opposing Star Destroyers.

After several minutes of the battle, the Eriadu Authority had finally lost it's authority. The pride of their fleet was gone, along with nine Star Destroyers, a Dominator, and two Golan-III's. Their only success was that Delvardus had been at a conference on the surface during the attack, and that wasn't even intentional. The ones who sent the request would most likely be executed, even if the assault hadn't occurred.

Above all, it was a major victory for Zero Command. A Super Star Destroyer among their fleet now, a rival reduced to a petty threat, and the fact that omnidroid worked on such a large scale. It was a good day, they all thought as the fleet jumped to hyperspace.

* * *

Coruscant took quick attention to the Imperial Remnant peace envoy. Apparently the comm link wasn't as secure as they believed; all of Coruscant's news services awaited Pellaeon's arrival. The shuttle descended, a sleek Lambda-Class shuttle, near the quality of the emperor's own, though Pellaeon himself didn't agree with granting himself higher privileges through use of his rank.

With a hiss, the shuttle's ramp lowered like a jaw from the head-like cockpit. Pellaeon descended down the ramp, followed by several officers. His formal aura remained, though not with a threatening presence as often met with Imperial admirals.

Councilor Solo waited at the bottom of the ramp, New Republic guards holding civilian news services back. "Welcome, Admiral." Leia Organa Solo greeted him. "We all hope these meetings to go successfully."

"Thank you, Councilor." Pellaeon responded, grabbing her hand and giving a firm shake. "Let's take these talks indoors, away from all of these… Well, let's say that political publicity has never been something Imperials desired."

"Well then, in we go." She replied, walking with Pellaeon through the cleared area of the landing platform. At least they didn't have to plow their way through. This crowd would never have been allowed to gather if the talks had occurred in the Empire. Palpatine's policies of secrecy had often kept the Empire from descending into panic or unneeded excitement, especially when those issues might explode.

The senate building was no longer a large dome in a relatively cleared area of Coruscant. The New Republic had taken the emperor's palace as their capital, which had actually proven an advantage for the Empire, temporarily. Palpatine's grand doorway was open almost all the time now, a symbol that anyone could achieve that height of power.

The envoy entered the palace, rebel sentinels guarding the doorway. Waiting just inside the doorway was the other Solo, eying the Imperials. Han Solo was quite predictable, his old smuggler ways and always on his feet attitude ever-present. He joined the envoy, at his wife's side, whispering into her ear. He made a blatant attempt to keep his voice low enough that Pellaeon couldn't hear.

"General Solo," Pellaeon began. "I would appreciate it if you would speak for all of us here. I know that we are your guests, but we should start reducing our rivalries if we ever hope to attain peace."

Han turned to look at him. "Look, I don't agree with all of this." He said, annoyance clearly in his voice. "You Imps make all of us nervous, and I'd rather you'd been shot down. Also, I'm not a general anymore, Admiral."

"Well, at least you're honest." Pellaeon said, trying to keep his voice level.

They all continued through the corridors, lined by massive arches and statues, now of republic heroes. Even the original grand staircases of the palace had been replaced with turbolifts, ruining the image of the palace. Pellaeon was not an artistic person, but even he could see that.

The turbolift took them to the main conference room of the New Republic, where all of their representatives waited. And so the talks began, with the Imperials asking for a cease fire and the rebellion skeptic of the offer.


	14. Chapter 14

The _Night Hammer_ dropped out of hyperspace with a massive flash. It had to be expected from a nineteen kilometer long vessel. Among all of the ships at Atravis, it was an amazing sight. Superior to even the great Praetor-II Battlecruiser, and far superior to the symbolic Imperator. Soon after the Super Star Destroyer came to orbit Atravis, several more ships flashed into existence.

In the lead was the _Black Hand_, followed closely by the _Desolate_, _Helios_, _Avenger_ and the small _Silent_. They wove their way through the shipyards to stop at ribcage hangars above the planet. The smallest of the ships broke away from the main group and headed directly towards the _Shockwave_, the gun bristling, Tector-Class Star Destroyer.

Aboard the _Night Hammer_ thousands of Eriadu Authority officers were imprisoned aboard their own ship. Several holes had been blown in the side of the vessel in an attempt to sabotage it rather than hand it over to Zero Command. Most of the sabotage attempts had been unsuccessful, luckily, and the ship only had minor, superficial damage.

The droid was not as skilled a pilot as a professionally trained crew, but it did its work. The super star destroyer glided into into low orbit and set down on the surface. This maneuver had only been used twice before, with the _Lusankya_ and the _Iron Fist_, and was done quite well by the non-human, or even living pilot.

The black shape set down in a massive patch of blue, thrusters causing the water surface to bubble and steam. Soon, water covered the entire surface of the _Night Hammer_, and it disappeared beneath the ocean to the underwater facilities on Atravis. Harrsk had been very specific with the hidden facility for 're-educating' the Eriadu soldiers as Zero Command.

Several times, Harrsk's paranoia had beneficial results. Sudden changes in the chain of command, right before the general Orik Thar had deserted, and would have taken a large portion of the state's ground forces with him. The recruitment of aliens as crew members even though they were largely considered inferior had drawn out several Maldrood spies when their reports were intercepted. And now, the marine repair and education facility would keep those hundred thousand soldiers from being able to cause significant damage.

The _Shockwave_ loomed over the _Silent_ as it closed in to connect with the docking port. The small and heavily modified Correlian Gunship gave a last burst from its engines and connected with the hatch, before shutting down the propulsion systems.

Jerot waited in his control chamber, filtering the urgent reports form the ones of moderate importance. The other intelligence officers were flitting out of the room, hoping to revisit older friends among the other vessels, after leaving the _Silent_ and then the _Shockwave_. Finally, he rose from his seat and joined the exiting crew.

The corridors were nearly empty by now; only a skeleton crew was still aboard the ship. Suddenly, a clang echoed through the hallway. Jerot turned to face the noise, finding nothing visible. He headed in the direction of the sound, to the other end of the corridor near the posterior of the ship. There was a scorched black area in the wall, with a metal rod poking through it. "Ordol?" Jerot shouted.

"Sorry about that." The reply came quickly. "Just a little error." The rod slid out of the wall.

"A little error?" Jerot questioned, keeping the uncertainty invisible and covering all his thoughts as to what might happen due to the damage. "Half a meter higher and you could have hit the main coolant line. You've probably severed connection between the engines and the bridge as well."

Ordol poked his face through the hole. "Ah, but if I had done that, I think we might be a bit overcooked." He chuckled. "It's only hit part of the power grid, nothing more. Stop worrying about me, Jerot, would you? I can handle my own systems."

Jerot walked past the damaged wall section and into the engineering section. "What is it that has been damaged then?"

"Nothing major." Ordol shrugged. Probably a few computer terminals on the port and aft end of the ship." He picked up a multitool and disconnected the plate covering the damaged section. "I hear the raid went successfully."

"Yes, it did." Jerot replied.

"No thanks to me for developing your new pride of the fleet?" Ordol asked sarcastically. "I feel so appreciated for all of these achievements and leaps I've made in the engineering field."

Jerot rubbed his fingers together thoughtfully. "If you really wish so, I can arrange for your quarters to be expanded. Even though I might not be very high ranked officially, I am still the third highest rank in ZCI. A few pulled strings and discussions, and you could own a hundred hectares down on the surface, along with your own custom constructed home."

"I though more like a page on the HoloNet." Ordol answered simply, twiddling in the wall circuitry with his multitool. "Though I could use a manor for my shore leave coming up in a few weeks."

"Which do you want." Jerot asked cooly. "I can provide either option."

"What happened to the fun and cheery Jerot we used to have?" Ordol sighed.

"That is a private matter, concerning issues outside of your expertise and even most of the old Empire." Jerot said. "Now will you answer?"

"I'll take the article." Ordol bit out. "Now would you get busy or go?"

Jerot turned his back and walked away, heading through the corridor and to the ship they were connected to. Another meeting with the insane admiral was approaching.

* * *

The _Telos V_ was in bad condition. It hung in one of the ribcage hangars over Atravis, the hull seared by turbolaser fire and plenty of hull breaches visible. But it was nearly functional, and his own ship, Thelcar thought, his shuttle closing in on the Acclamator's docking bay.

With a hiss and clank, the shuttle connected and the blast door opened. The air pressure changed slightly, detectable by the ears. Obviously, the _Telos V_'s environmental systems were not functioning very well either.

An officer rushed to greet Thelcar. "Welcome aboard, Captain." The officer was much taller than Thelcar and his skin color was an off white. Perhaps the environmental systems were purposefully changed to suit the aliens more.

"At ease." Thelcar ordered, the alien officer relaxing. "Can you take me to the bridge?"

"Yes, Sir." He replied quickly. "Right this way." The alien moved swiftly through the halls, elongated legs making the journey faster. Thelcar had to walk quickly to keep up.

"What's your name and rank, officer?" Thelcar inquired, starting to breathe hard due to moving quickly and breathing less dense air.

"I am Major Torill Gine, I've been placed as your second in command." Torill replied.

"What is the crew complement of this ship?"

"Six thousand, four hundred and eighty one." Torill said in his quick manner. "23% Mustaf, 26% Hrakian, 37% Vahla, and 14% human. I hope the diversity of this crew isn't a problem, as you were most likely situated on a vastly human ship."

"No worries, Major." Thelcar replied. "I'm not exactly an average Imperial when it comes to aliens. I believe that is why I was placed in command of this vessel." He was breathing heavily. "How important is the air pressure being at this level in here?"

Torill pressed a button next to a turbolift shaft, summoning it. "The majority of the crew functions better in this air pressure and ratio of gasses, but all private quarters are divided between different species to allow for specialized environmental control." The door slid open and the two slipped in.

"That seems fair." Thelcar said. "What is the condition of this ship?"

"It should be completely repaired in three days, five hours and twenty eight minutes." Torill replied. "The main engines have been shut down due to the damage, and meanwhile, the hull plating is being repaired. Along with the repairs, the turbolasers have been modified."

With a slight hiss, the turbolift car door opened on the bridge level. The array of species aboard the ship was quite visible on the bridge, the tall and pale Vahla, human looking Hrakians and the unusual Mustafarians. Humans were the least abundant throughout all of the ship, comprising less than one fifth of the crew. And so Thelcar stepped out of the turbolift into his new command bridge, ready to take control.


	15. Chapter 15

The Jedi Academy on Yavin IV had been abandoned for months now. The incident with the ghost of Exar Kun had sent quite a fright into the minds of the supposedly emotionless Jedi. But not the lost warrior. He would not let fear control him, rather he would control it and use it as his own blade.

The Praetor-II _Lost Warrior_ hovered over the gas giant's moon, a gray figure orbiting the green mass. From the ventral surface, where the docking bays are stationed, three shuttles emerged and descended towards the surface of the inhabitable moon. The shuttles were colored silver, red and black, far different from the Imperial grey, or even royal white, that was standard for Lambda-class shuttles.

But when a Jedi or Sith is in control, those rules are not his to follow. For as a once great, and mad, Jedi said, the galaxy would bend to the will of the force. C'baoth was an arrogant fool, driven insane through an imperfect cloning process, isolation and power. Hallis was not nearly as weak as that poor, old fool.

Yavin IV would be a fitting place to serve as the capital of his new empire. An empire in which The force truly ruled over everything. The burial site of one of the most powerful Sith and the former academy of the Jedi; it had a great presence in the force.

The shuttles set down on the surface, the red clashing harshly with the green. The depressurizing hiss came as the ramp lowered, and the occupants descended. Hallis in his robe, followed by a now red clad Captain Zera. Close behind were black and red armored stormtroopers, several with blasters and the others with vibro-weaponry.

Hallis liked to impose the fact that swords, spears and melee weaponry connected with their own essence more, as an extension of their own body. It was a thought that had disappeared with the mass use of blasters.

Zera seemed much more comfortable around the force user now, most likely used to his unusual nature. Or he could very well be hiding his fears and discomforts to make it seem as if he trusted his self declared overlord. Either way, he followed Hallis as if he were his second in command. Which he was said to be, but everyone knew that Hallis was fully in charge. Zera felt for the blaster he knew would still be on his belt, taking slight comfort from its presence. Relaxed, he followed the soldiers and Jedi into the dense foliage of the jungle.

Hallis lifted his hand, signaling the direction in which the stormtroopers should go. They broke into a run, heading that way and leaving Zera alone with the master. "Captain, there is no need for a blaster here." He said, swiping his hand to the side and Zera felt the blaster unclip and fall to the ground. "Do you not believe I can protect you? Or do you really have so little trust in my that you must be on your guard whenever in my presence?"

"No sir, I fully trust in you." Zera said quickly, hoping to get out of this situation quickly. His voice was slightly shaky, giving everything away and clearly visible to anyone. Jedi senses weren't needed at all to see his discomfort.

"And the reason I should trust you when you are constantly lying only to seek my approval?" Hallis inquired. "Why should I not execute you now for disloyalty?"

"Because you need me to control the troops." Zera responded. "The troops are loyal to me. They follow you because they see I am at your side, and that I'm not opposing you. My troops see me as their leader and you at my side, or at least that is how they want to see things."

"You are saying that if I kill you here and now, none of your troops will obey me?" Hallis said, rubbing his chin. "Should I take the chance and see if they fear me enough to obey? Or should I take my time and gain their trust, something I can't seem to acquire from you?"

"Unless I tell them to follow you, they will continue to be very closed to you, unless you can show them how trustworthy you are, as well as your willingness to fight at their sides." Zera pointed out.

"I hope that will be the case then, if you fail to be open around me and don't continue your efficient actions for this new empire." Hallis turned and began pushing through the brush. "Come now, Captain," He said, a stone pyramid now visible through the green and brown of the jungle. "Let us establish my empire."

* * *

An annoying buzzing came from the silver cylinder on Jerot's collar. He sat up quickly, getting up from his bed and swiftly pressing on it. "Yes?" Jerot demanded, irate from being disturbed in the middle of his scheduled sleep time.

"This is Vice Admiral Tel-Zih." Crackled through. "You are to report in Conference Room 1 of the _Shockwave_ by 0300 for a briefing." There was a pause. "Unless you decline, respectfully, of course."

"I'll be there at 0300 sharp." Jerot growled back, clicking the cylinder. He threw his legs over the edge of his bed and entered the fresher. After a fast minute in the sonic shower, he pulled his uniform on and hurried out of his quarters.

A quick jog through the corridors had him at an airlock, and a quick tap to the comm cylinder summoned Jerot's shuttle. With a hiss, the blast doors slid open and the black interior of the Lambda-Class shuttle was in view. Jerot entered and sat down, glancing at the datapad he had brought with him unconsciously.

Jerot glanced down at his datapad, overviewing the schematics of a space station. The file was designated 'Fuel Station Ergo'. It took just two minutes for the shuttle to reach the _Shockwave_, which by that time Jerot had most of the station's structure memorized. The airlock hiss came and Jerot broke into a sprint through the Tector-Class Star Destroyer's hallways.

The designated night shift was almost ghostlike in the shipyard, as the automated defenses could easily hold off enemies until the crew could reach their stations. Jerot stepped into the turbolift at the side of the corridor. As the doors were closing, an officer slipped in through the narrowing gap. The officer, an ensign, took a formal stance standing in the corner of the lift.

Jerot glanced at the ensign, his face showing the obvious signs of nervousness. The young officer shuffled his feet the moment he noticed Jerot observing him. "Is there a problem, Ensign?" Jerot inquired, cocking his head slightly.

"N-nothing Sir." He stammered, sweat starting to show dripping from his hairline. "Nothing at all. I'm fine. How are you, Sir?"

"I am fine, but you are obviously dreading something." Jerot replied. "Where are you headed to?"

"Conference Room 1." He panted, seeming to get tired from his worries. "Vice Admiral Tel-Zih—"

"Yes, I know." Jerot cut him off. "I am headed there as well. It's a briefing on something related to the Fuel Station Ergo, above Thyferra. What is your name, Ensign?"

"Alin Pereas."

"I am Lieutenant Jerot Ruana." Jerot told Alin. "It seems we may become more acquainted with each other over the next several days."

Alin seemed to calm down a little but become a little more formal at the same time. "The Lieutenant who took command of the Kuat assault against the Vice Admiral's orders?"

"Yes, that was me." Jerot confirmed, brushing his left arm slightly. "I hoped that I would be known for different reasons rather than insubordination."

The turbolift door slid open and a beep sounded for the officers to exit. Alin stepped out of the way for Jerot to exit. "Well, formally. But most of the crewmen of those vessels are starting to prefer your tactics to the Vice Admiral's brutish charges." Alin pointed out. "You're gaining the favor of the officers, especially with the survival rates you turn out."

"Noted, Ensign." Jerot responded, wrist clasped behind his back. "Return to your formal pose, we will are about to visit some high ranks, if you haven't forgotten. They can be quite unstable at times."

"I've noticed." Alin hushed himself as they entered the conference room.

Several admirals were seated around the conference table watching Alin and Jerot enter. There were several other low ranking officers as well that had arrived before Jerot. The High Admiral wasn't there, only one of the Vice Admirals and some of his close subordinates.

Tel-Zih's eyes narrowed as Jerot entered the room. "Have you been briefed on your task?"

"No, I haven't." Jerot sighed, putting his arm on the table and leaning his head on his hand. "You were supposed to brief me now, and you told me you would brief me here."

"I thought you might have sliced into the files instead of waiting for the briefing." Tel-Zih countered.

"When are we going to begin with the actual meeting instead of you berating me about my unorthodox tendencies, which have been shown to be superior?" Jerot retorted.

Tel-Zih sat back in his chair still staring at Jerot with obvious dislike. He tapped the table and a green holoprojection appeared above the ridge down the middle of the table. The diagram shown was the Ergo Fuel Station.

"Hopefully, none of you have any knowledge about the DarkTrooper Project." Tel-Zih announced. "It was 12 years ago that it ended, destroyed by Rebels. Fuel Station Ergo was the last location that the _Arc Hammer_ commanded by Rom Mohc, before it was destroyed by rebel infiltrator Kyle Katarn."

"You're tasked with finding where the _Arc Hammer_ was going when it was destroyed." Tel-Zih explained. "Six hours after the _Arc Hammer_ left the station, Imperial Command lost contact with the general. The rebels had caused too much trouble for us at the time, so we never had organized search parties try and find any of the prototypes that may have survived. I think your task should be quite clear now."

Chatter broke out the moment the Vice Admiral stopped speaking. "Where is this fuel station?" One of the officers at the far end of the table inquired.

"It was located two lightyears from Thyferra last we had contact with them. Since then, it has been under Rebel control." Tel-Zih conceded. "We're hoping that it is still assembled and functional with the records of all ship exit and entry records still intact. Every Imperial space station keeps several encrypted emergency data capsules in case of destruction."

"So, if it's destroyed, we have to find these capsules?"

"Yes, but if it's still intact, you'll have to scour the station for them." Tel-Zih reminded them. "You're not allowed to return until the records are recovered as well as the location of the destroyed _Arc Hammer_. Further information will be transmitted to your datapads and in 48 hours you are all to report to the Star Destroyer _Telos V_ where all your supplies for the mission will be stored." He seemed to want them to leave now, but forced himself to ask one last question. "Do you have any last questions?"

Tel-Zih glanced around the table, making contact with each officer for several seconds. He made contact with Jerot for longer than anyone else before announcing their dismissal. All the lower ranked officers fled the room as quickly as they could. The assets for this mission were quite under standard. Jerot speculated that Tel-Zih might just be doing this to remove his rivals, specifically a former Imperial Security Bureau officer. With haste, Jerot left the room as well.


	16. Chapter 16

**Note: I'm sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. Issues with the school computers as well as schoolwork have been interfering.**

The Telos V ventured out of its massive hangar, the ship looking as if it had been salvaged from a junkworld and several metal patches welded on. It was exactly what the rebels used in the early stages of the war, and might be able to pass through minor defenses and security checks. Two massive, red, New Republic symbols had been smeared onto the sides, and the ship given a rebel transponder code. Especially with the rebels controlling Kuat and other major shipyards as of now, a rickety Acclamator cruiser should be able to pass through the front with ease.

If all failed, they would attempt to pass through the lines as smugglers; smugglers who had taken an old, broken down Acclamator and repaired it to the point of actual use. But if a boarding party came along to inspect the ship, the mission would end right then and there. Many thanks to the Vice Admiral Tel-Zih for the well prepared scout and retrieval mission.

Against orders, Jerot had convinced the Colonel Janizevski to bring the Silent along and stow it away in the underside hangar of the Telos V. Janizevski had been hesitant, but knew of Jerot's skills and responsibility, and gave in. Jerot remained aboard the modified DP-20 for as long as he could, avoiding the main ship's unreliable equipment and unusual crew. Though on occasion, he would visit by request of the Colonel in charge of the Acclamator, his old friend Thelcar.

However battered and war torn the Telos V may have looked, it was equally matched by its horribly outdated equipment. The Acclamator-class cruiser had been in service for 35 years, with only one remodeled version for enhanced troop capacity. The small array of turbolasers, three thrusters and single bridge made it even more vulnerable.

The DP-20 on the other hand was fast, versatile and could withstand far more with the sacrifice of size and troop capacity. With further modification, the Silent had become the apex vessel of its size, complete with every possible upgrade and equipment addition available.

Aboard the Telos V, the crew scurried to their stations and through the halls. It would be considered a horror to any groomed Imperial officer. Chaotic running through the ship, and not to mention the quantity of aliens aboard. Thelcar didn't seem to care.

Thelcar sat in the middle of the command bridge, overlooking the operations of all the crew. There was little to no bickering between the multiple alien species, unlike how humans could create an ordeal out of nothing in their presence. "How far are we from the rebel borders?"

"Approximately three hours, unless we encounter any difficulties." One of the bridge officers answered quickly. "The New Republic could very well have patrols on this border, despite the Imperial Remnant's recent advances."

Thelcar leaned on his arm. "Make sure to notify me as soon as any trouble becomes visible. I don't want to be kept in the dark on my own ship." He pushed himself out of his chair and headed for the exit of the bridge.

"Sir—" The same alien interrupted his departure. "It would be much faster for you to respond to any threats if you remained on the bridge. I don't see the point in your returning to quarters, especially when you desire a quick notification, and logically, a quick response to any unexpected encounters."

Thelcar turned to face the officer. "I will return to my quarters because I want to." He turned back and walked into the turbolift. He stood stiffly in the car until the doors closed. As soon as they were shut and he was alone he let out a sigh. The alien conscripts could be quite frustrating with their strict following of protocol. It seemed they wanted to prove their worth to the Imperials.

The turbolift slid to a halt, and the doors hissed open. Several crewmen entered the turbolift, standing at the sides away from Thelcar. Either they were being respectful, or following the harsh Imperial rules towards alien-human etiquette for interaction. Thelcar turned his head slightly to catch a glimpse of each of the aliens. They still remained where they were and barely moved except for blinking and breathing.

It took half a minute for the turbolift to reach the floor Thelcar desired. He disembarked and headed to his quarters. The captain's quarters were much nicer than the rest of the ship. Most likely because the repair teams had knowledge of a human being the commander of the vessel, and wanted to further the segregation between humans and aliens.

The quarters were spacious, several times larger than the average crew's quarters. Average crew quarters housed several members as well, rather than one. The size was one of the numerous luxuries provided to the captain. At one end, there was a room which contained a bath and fresher. The bed had its own chamber with a special structure that blocked most sounds except for the comm, and near complete darkness when the lights were off.

Thelcar could get used to this. It was wonderful in comparison to the tiny, compact quarters aboard the Silent. Though most of the crew lived in similar quarters aboard this vessel. Thelcar set himself down on the couch and activated the holoprojector.

* * *

The New Republic and Imperial Remnant had officially agreed to a cease fire. Deeming the rogue imperial warlords a threat to even the shattered galaxy in the midst of the Imperial-Republic war, they arranged a meeting and ended hostilities temporarily.

"Admiral," crackled through Pellaeon's comm cylinder. "Are the negotiations over yet?" It was Disra, easily noticeable by his irate tone.

Pellaeon stepped out of the hallway into a smaller room. "They've just finished. We will be returning in several days, the New Republic wishes for us to stay longer for further talks." He answered.

"NO!" Disra shouted. "You are to return to Bastion immediately, we are not continuing any relationships with the rebels. They are an illegitimate government who has stolen our territory and subjects. If you continue to defy my, I will strip you of your rank."

"I'm afraid you cannot do that, Disra." Pellaeon sighed. "I have the full support of the military. And what do you have? The best you can afford are some mercenaries. And then there's the ridiculous idea that they would even want to challenge a star destroyer, much less the entire fleet."

There was a silence, as Disra failed to come up with a counter. "We will see about that. I am recalling your fleet to Imperial space." Disra cut off the link.

Pellaeon strode back out into the hallway. Several New Republic guards were standing there. "Is something wrong, Admiral?" They queried.

"No, I am perfectly fine." He replied. "When is the next council?"

"Approximately two hours, on floor 26, corridor five, room nine."

"Thank you." Pellaeon said quickly, hurrying to his temporary quarters. The New Republic had a severe lack of decoration, especially with the removal of the Ch'hala trees. A brisk walk ended with Pellaeon arriving in his quarters. They were deemed ambassador's quarters, but seemed more like an average middle class Coruscant apartment.

Pellaeon set himself down on one of the chairs that had access to a computer terminal. Of course, this computer was blocked from the majority of files pertaining to the New Republic. But it did have access to the holonet news, broadcasts from both the New Republic, and if you dig deeper, the Imperial Remnant.

The New Republic's holonet news service lacked many details. Anyone could watch it, but it never provided ample information. 'Imperial Remnant attack on Eriadu results in destruction of Sander Delvardus'. That was quite incorrect, the Imperial Remnant had no involvement.

Pellaeon continued browsing over to the Imperial Remnant broadcasts. 'Rogue Imperials capture Eriadu Super Star Destroyer' was what this source showed. Only military officers could access these holonet news sources and a highly filtered version was released to the public. If the full broadcasts were released galaxy-wide, there would be much less misunderstandings with the Imperial Remnant. It was too bad that since Palpatine had died, the news services had been taken over by moff funding. Pellaeon had no power in that area.

Pellaeon began browsing father back, finding 'Disastrous attempt to unite the Empire'. Daala had foolishly tried to reunite the 'Warlords' and combine the remaining Imperial forces, but they never would have been able to get along, especially after nine years of continual conflict and struggle between one another.

'Carida destroyed in super nova'. For some reason, the former Imperial outpost on Carida had been destroyed along with the entire system. There was no detail on the causes, but the most supported theory among the Imperial Remnant was that the rebels were involved. Of course they were involved, the young star had detonated billions of years before it should have in rebel space, destroying hundreds of prisoner of war camps. But that was just the thought that had been spread about the Empire, retold hundreds of times.

Finally, Pellaeon arrived at the event he most dreaded. 'Thrawn killed, Empire retreats'. The worst day for the Empire. It was much more horrible than even the destruction of the second Death Star and the death of Emperor Palpatine. Palpatine may have had the loyalty of billions of people, perhaps trillions, but Thrawn had support, genius, and was an inspiration to the few alien officers, as well as the fading Empire. The moment he died, the true Galactic Empire and its ideals died with him. The reborn Palpatine was mad as a Tusken raider, and was only followed out of fear. Thrawn on the other hand, was followed due to respect.

Pellaeon sat back in his chair, allowing himself to relax for the hour until the next course of negotiations. Until the Empire could regain such a charismatic and effective individual as Thrawn, there was little to prevent its decline, and eventual destruction.


	17. Chapter 17

The Silent experienced more inertia than the Telos V. Most likely because it was stationed inside of it's docking bay with minimal systems operational hooked up directly to the Acclamator's power systems. It was efficient, but inconvenient. Whenever the Telos V dropped out of hyperspace, trinkets and supplies under a certain mass would fly against the walls. The operations room was no exception.

Tablets would fall off the tables and get stuck to the wall for several seconds, and the computer terminals would occasionally lurch forwards. The laws of physics were broken down inside the Acclamator, but it was protocol to keep any ship in the docking bay at minimum power so it doesn't interfere with the main ship at all.

Jerot was getting sick of the bashing and skidding inside of the Silent. He rose from his chair angrily, but not displaying his displeasure, and strode out of the operations room. Another redirection sent him stumbling against the wall. All of these maneuvers were necessary to avoid rebel patrols and space stations, even minor asteroid mining facilities.

Recovering his stance, he continued through the corridor. A supply cart had been overturned and several officers were scrambling to recollect the spilled materials. It was mainly computer tablets and a few were cracked. Tel-Zih would have to compensate them for all of the damages, and if he didn't Jerot had plenty of plans for him, and none pleasant.

The docking tube was the worst part of the whole ordeal. It looked as if it had cracks and fissures in it, and the moment the hangar doors opened all the air would be sucked out and the corridors destroyed from a pressure explosion. Jerot nervously and cautiously walked through the tube. He entered his pass code on the terminal at the other end and sighed, very lightly, as he entered the Telos V and the door shut behind him.

There were several windows overlooking the hangar bay, and the sight didn't look any better from the Acclamator. The black painted DP-20 was in decent shape, but the interior hangar was being even more damaged every minute. And the airlock tube looked as if it were about to snap. So much for adequate supplies and protocol.

Jerot continued through the corridors, trying to avoid looking into the hangar. The odd-looking crew members aboard the Telos V couldn't avoid staring at it from time to time, and attempted to avoid staring at the humans aboard. Despite how odd the aliens seemed to the humans, the aliens were comfortable with many humans. Palpatine's arrogance had led to so little progress among the social structures of the Empire. If he had simply let them be, he would have much wider support and a stronger military through integration of other species tactics and technology.

There was no real operations room aboard the Telos V, only a room filled with computer terminals connected to the ship's mainframe and the holonet. It wasn't the best you could have, but it would suffice for less crucial operations and study. Inside were several of the plenty alien officers, working away on the computers at the best of their abilities. Conscripts weren't the best in the intelligence and maintenance areas. Jerot sat himself down at one of the terminals and began tapping away.

* * *

Ordol kept to himself, running about the Silent assisting in repairing whatever happened to break during the turbulent voyage. Many tablets had been taken to the engineering room for him to repair, all with broken screens or damaged circuitry. It was a wonderful experience being demoted to a computer repairman rather than actually fixing the ship. After a few screens, he took a quick run around the ship and headed to the cafeteria. He sat down, and tried to relax.

* * *

Mal simply sat on the bridge of the Silent. There was very little to do other than monitor the ship's functionality. He was playing a holobroadcast on his terminal, when another shock rippled throughout the ship. His seat lurched to the side, and the command chair slid as far as it could before the wiring held it in place. It was difficult to work in these conditions, and he needed a break. Mal left his seat and headed to the cafeteria, where he believed he could relax a little.

* * *

Thousands of stormtroopers stumbled around in the jungles of Yavin's fourth moon. Vibro-blade equipped stormtroopers cut paths through the jungle, clearing routes between outposts they had established. Several towers had already been established around the mysterious pyramid in the center of the grimy forest, an imitation of the former Jedi Temple on Coruscant.

The towers were made of stone salvaged from the surrounding ruins and held together with pastes the soldiers created from the foliage. It was a direct command from Hallis. His reasoning for the structures was simply that it was very… natural. He seemed to have a love for nature and the grand structures that displayed his power and authority.

Hallis was not present at the construction site, for he had taken the Lost Warrior out to capture, or capitulate the minds of the other ships crew, for workforce and the resources of their ship. It was quite an amazing skill, domination through willpower. In the time Hallis had been away, three Imperial-II Star Destroyers had been taken, and the crews working on deconstructing the vessels to construct Hallis a flagship. He would not simply stop with a grand city.

Captain Zera had been stationed on Yavin IV to observe the constructions. Hallis had still let him retain his free will, as he believed a free mind was much more capable of abstract thinking. As a fact, it was. It was not held back by all of the rules and restrictions applied by the barriers of mind control. Literally thinking outside of the box, in a metaphorical manner.

All of the soldiers had been commanded to obey Zera and Hallis, but any orders from Zera that would lead to the demise of Hallis were immediately expunged. Hallis had the perfect, loyal army, capable of many more things than the ancient droid armies used in the past.

The ancient pyramid that the rebellion had occupied in the past had been captured and ransacked by the Empire after their evacuation. But after several days of transferring the systems from the Star Destroyers, the pyramid would have a massive reactor below it to power the systems there at all times. The only problem would be how to enact such a feat of engineering.

Several engineers had been freed from their mind controlling bonds to work with Zera on designing and planning the operation without destroying the pyramid. The current plan was to excavate the area on one side of the pyramid and make sure they dug deep enough that the pyramid remained on sufficient ground to prevent collapse. The reactor would then be transferred below and connected to all of the systems within.

Once Hallis returned, they would present their idea to him and wait for his praise or his wrath. In the meantime, Zera had decided to interact with the temporarily freed engineers, and if their idea was successful, they would be freed from the mind control permanently, or at least until they became dangerous to the Master.

Zera and the engineers, Harvid, Lerks, and Bremen finished their work and exited the pyramid. The area directly around the pyramid had been completely cleared of jungle, and a town had emerged. There were a number of buildings constructed from stone and paste, with extra materials taken from the Star Destroyers. Several restaurants had sprung up with the salvaged parts of the cafeterias, and housing was very dense around these structures.

They all sat down at a table in one of these restaurants. The floor and walls were stone, but the ceiling was made of scavenged metal and welded together. The purpose of that was to prevent water or paste from leaking into people's food and the food supply.

The main foods available on Yavin IV were the fruits and few animals, and the standard military rations. The Lost Warrior was rarely resupplied, and didn't have any fresh food, so native plants and rations would have to suffice. Zera requested a large fruit platter for their table.

"Captain," Bremen began. "I have a suggestion to go along with this project, if it's successful."

"Yes? What is it?" Zera replied.

"I think we should request that the engineers be allowed freedom." He stated. "Imagine how much more progress would occur here? And Hallis seems to love ancient arts and architecture, so if we had more artisans, I believe he would be pleased. It is impossible to have artisans with no creativity."

"Only if we do a good job, should we even suggest it." Lerks interjected, mumbling over something in his mouth. "If we make demands without proof of the benefits, he will only punish us."

"We can't plan anything until we finish our current job." Harvid said. "We have to make a good impression before we try anything against his orders."

"I'm saying that we should request this after we complete our job." Bremen stated again. "If we do well, we could very well become free once more. Isn't that a good thing, or do you enjoy remaining a slave, who doesn't even think to object to what you're told?"

"I for one agree." Zera put in. "Why do you two so blindly object to this? If we try, we get a chance. If we don't, you all return to his mind control. It's better to try than not to, especially when the benefits outweigh the costs."

Lerks shook his head. "Have you forgotten that Hallis can read our minds as well? What if he reads us and considers it treason? I'd much rather be a slave than die."

"Then you're a coward." Bremen sneered. "If you won't at least try, get out. Turn yourself in to Hallis. We don't need anyone who isn't willing to take a chance." He turned to Harvid. "If you feel the same, do the same, coward."

"We're not cowards, we're smart. We want to survive." Harvid replied.

"A coward is someone who refuses to do what's right, even when he knows what he must do." Zera said. "By that definition, you are a coward, and an idiot as well. Freedom is worth risk and sacrifice, and I'd rather be dead than enslaved by that madman. Continue to be his tools, but I would much rather have all of my men be free, or at least a majority of them."

Lerks shifted his gaze at Zera. "Why would you say anything about that? It's not as if you're treated badly. You're free, you have the quarters of a captain, and you have all the soldiers and slaves you'd ever need."

"Except that I live under the hand of someone who can take that away at any moment." Zera replied. "I live in fear. Fear is a much worse slave master than your pathetic mind control. At least you don't feel anything in that state."

Lerks rose from his seat and stomped out of the restaurant. "Well, your take Harvid?" Zera asked.

"Fine." Harvid responded. "I'll go with it. Think we should deal with Lerks?"

"Of course," Bremen said quickly. "He isn't doing anything to help us and is much more of a risk if he's alive."

"We can't kill him." Zera responded. "If he dies, your chance at freedom dies as well, once your guilt is discovered."

"Our chances also die if he talks." Bremen stated. "His death will not do anything to reduce our effectiveness, and will be less of a risk compared to the information he carries."

"We are not going to kill him." Zera said once again. "We are not going to let our cause descend to such primitive instincts. Remember all those riots on Bespin after we took over? The moment things became violent, Vader shut them down."

The bickering continued on and on, seeming as if it wouldn't end. Finally, one by one, they left the structure and returned to their homes. Grunting filled the streets as hundreds of slave soldiers dragged large stones around, and a roar-hiss sounded as shuttles carried durasteel.


	18. Chapter 18

The council chamber was filled with a number of senators and generals. Pellaeon could only recognize a portion of them, Organa, Mothma, Iblis, just to name a few of the familiar faces. The others kept the uniform unemotional, stiff face that was naturally used when an enemy was in their presence. Despite the fact he was not an enemy at the time.

Pellaeon took a seat, placing his arms on the table and folding his hands together. Thrawn had told him to keep an intellectual composure, a calculating look. If his enemy, or at least someone who wasn't on his side continued to act hostile towards him, he should not show any weakness towards them, and attempt to remain in a position where others could respect him. Respect for his skill in combat, rather than fear. Fear would not work in these negotiations, it would only divide them further.

The doors to the room closed as several other officials entered the council chamber. One of them didn't fit with the others. He walked as if he were Imperial and had gone through rigorous training, wore the uniform of a Republic admiral and wore an expression that fitted that of a considerate man who avoided violence when possible. Yes, it was so obviously written on his face.

"Now, are we ready to begin?" Mon Mothma asked the attendees of the conference, glancing at both sides of the table.

The senators and generals nodded in agreement, looking to one another for approval. The buzz died down after several seconds, and the formality of the meeting returned. The table in front of each person showed a display screen, with a map of the galaxy and small, multicolored triangles at the edges of certain regions.

"This map represents the currently controlled regions of the galaxy. As we have already agreed to a cease fire, we must remove our soldiers from each others borders, as a friendly gesture. The moment military conflict and presence ends in border systems, we will be one step closer to peace." Mon Mothma stated, tracing along the borders on the map, being displayed on one large projection in the middle of the table.

"I agree." Pellaeon responded. "I will remove the Star Destroyers stationed at Corsin, one at a time. Would you be willing to agree to creating a synchronized withdrawal? It would be better for us to leave at the same time, to remove any misconceptions of deception."

Iblis looked at Pellaeon, "It is an excellent idea, but the execution will be difficult. We would require a neutral fleet of ships to make sure both sides completely vacate the system."

The Imperial-Republic hybrid began speaking. "That's where I come in. My fleet is willing to monitor the withdrawal and enforce the retreat of any individuals who resist." He paused. "Despite the fact my fleet is outdated by several decades, it is a formidable force."

"Thank you for your input, Admiral." Iblis said, "Though I hope it will be unnecessary." He turned back to face Pellaeon. "We should go along with the withdrawal of single ships, to make sure we can monitor one another."

"It is an excellent idea, and the Empire will be entirely willing to permit it." Pellaeon stated. "As for monitoring, the people on the surface of the Corsin system could observe and report the removal of warships from the region."

"Then it's decided." Mon Mothma interjected. "We will begin with removing warships from the front, starting with Corsin, and any violation of the treaty will result in destruction of resisting vessels." She hurriedly shifted the subject. "As for terms of demilitarization of the borders, there are many systems who remain under occupation by Imperial forces."

"Yes, I know that." Pellaeon responded. "Any system under Imperial or Republic control at this moment should stay under their control."

"I disagree." Senator Organa quipped. "You control many systems that do not wish to remain under your control. To achieve peace, any system that wishes to be with us should be allowed to join. Worlds that do not wish to be controlled by you will never allow you successful rule over them."

"And that can be thought of in reverse as well." Pellaeon stated. "There have been a number of worlds that enjoy Imperial rule. The Empire allows for quick handling of problems, and has a very efficient structure, which appeals to a different type of mind set than what comprises the New Republic."

"Then how about we let the people decide?" The one Admiral said, "If people truly want to join the Empire or the Republic, they should be given the choice to stay or leave, or become independent. Is this not what our government system is about? Letting the people decide?"

"I'm sorry, Admiral," Pellaeon interjected, "But the system you have placed yourself in elects representatives to speak for them, and then pay them. The people get very little say."

"That is not true." Senator Organa objected. "The people decide the dealings of our government to a certain extent, but not fully."

"Exactly. 'To a certain extent.'" Pellaeon quoted. "If this deal is to commence, the Empire must be treated as an equal to the New Republic. Refusal to respect a partner as an equal only widens the gap of mistrust. I am not Palpatine, and the Empire has become something very different from his rule that was reliant on the force. Many of our worlds only stay with us because they prefer the order of our government."

"If this is the only step to peace—" Mon Mothma began.

"This is the only way to peace, and the only way for both of us to maintain our morality and to avoid hypocrisy. The Empire will withdraw all troops from the front if the Republic agrees, and will allow your officials to observe polls on our worlds, as long as they refrain from tampering with them." Pellaeon ranted, obviously tired of the Republic's officials. "I do not wish to throw my fleet into the fray, sending countless millions others to their deaths."

"I do not wish to cause any more casualties either." The strange Admiral added. "I completely support Admiral Pellaeon's proposal. It truly represents how we are supposed to function, and he seems to understand that better than most of us. We must let the world governments decide on who they remain with or join."

Organa sighed. "Very well. All in favor?"

The attendees of the conference began to raise their hands in favor. Only a few refused to support it, but the yeas outnumbered the nays.

"Then it's settled." Senator Organa finished. "The referendum will be approved and officials will be sent to all worlds to make sure the process goes smoothly."

"Would you mind if Imperial officials were allowed to go to Republic worlds as well, to observe your results?" Pellaeon asked. "I am still cautious of your system, and do not want there to be any miscounts."

"Your officials will be permitted access to our worlds." The strange Admiral said.

"That is not your decision to make," Mon Mothma began, but then acknowledged his statement. "But I will permit it."

"Thank you for your cooperation." Pellaeon concluded.

"And thank you for yours, as well." The Admiral reiterated. He rose from his seat to shake Pellaeon's hand. Pellaeon stood up and returned the gesture, shaking his hand. They locked gazes, and realization struck him. He was staring at one of the most decorated Admirals of the Empire. Admiral Yularen had survived, and deserted to the New Republic.

* * *

The Telos V came to a halt, the modeled space faded back to the white specks on black canvas. A large, grey mass loomed over the Acclamator, dozens of ships docked to it and connected by massive pipes. The Ergo Station was one of many fueling stations taken over by the Rebels in their sudden and massive growth in numbers in the days after the destruction of the Second Death Star.

This was the last place the Arc Hammer had reported from, refueling for its trip in the direction of Thyferra. The Telos V crew's task was to find whatever information on the lost ship that they could find in the fueling station's archives. There was a central data storage room which would be sealed off in case of emergency, and was not displayed in any schematics or records placed on the station. Only high ranking officers were told of the location, and therefore would most likely be protected and untampered.

Thelcar kept watch on the bridge, with several crew members on their shift. Ahead of the Telos V several small ships glided in to escort the cruiser into a docking port. "Please provide your registry number." One of the officers in the station demanded.

"ACC-1991-3." Thelcar stated.

"Performing scan now." The officer observing the entry responded.

The entire bridge seemed to hold their breath, but Thelcar kept his breath steady. The bridge door opened, and Jerot came aboard. "Colonel?" He asked. "The secondary code."

"Dammit." Thelcar cursed, and then said into the comm "91-14." He finished.

"You are cleared for docking." The manager said, somewhat suspiciously. "Follow the escort craft, and do not diverge from your designated flight path." The comm cut off.

"Thanks for the save." Thelcar sighed.

"We aren't finished yet. They're most likely still suspicious of the delayed answer." Jerot pointed out. "It is against protocol, at least in Imperial standards."

"Yes, yes. I know that." Thelcar replied sharply. "But we're just about ready to retrieve the data."

Jerot rubbed his fingers together. "I will take the task force. I've already overviewed the crew's personal files and have decided who is most fit for this mission." He paused. "Do you have any objections, sir?"

"Tell me who you're taking, and I will approve or disapprove of the participants, and I will also make adjustments if I deem it necessary."

"As you command." Jerot handed the colonel a datapad. "I have already picked out seven soldiers, and all their important records are on this datapad. Please contact me as soon as possible with any changes, I plan to set out in eight hours." He began to walk off.

"Lieutenant," Thelcar interrupted. "Why are you heading out on this mission?"

Jerot turned back to face Thelcar. "I was placed in charge of this mission, and so I will lead it. I am perfectly capable of both ranged and close combat, and know all of the details of the mission. I shall coordinate and participate, which will result in a far more favorable outcome." He turned and set off back to his operations room.

Thelcar stood there until Jerot had left, and pivoted around to face the bridge crew. "How much longer until we dock?"

"Approximately seven minutes." One of the Hrakians responded.

"I'm headed to my quarters. Notify me once any changes occur." He ordered. Thelcar took a quick stroll off of the bridge, making his way to his quarters. He shifted his gaze downwards at his datapad, looking at the choices Jerot had made for his task force.

One ex-Storm Commando, several Shock Troopers, and the rest were decorated Stormtroopers. Nothing unusual about the choice, since they were all well trained and had proven their worth in battle. There was nothing that needed adjustment, in his mind. He turned the datapad off and continued down his route to his quarters.

* * *

It had been six hours and no changes had been submitted by Thelcar. The strike team would leave as soon as they were ready, and when Jerot reported in the armory. Jerot sprinted to meet the soldiers, who were standing in the armory, equipping their plate armor. There were eight sets of modified Phase II body armor, repainted black with color coded stripes according to rank. The Phase II armor was preferred by Zero Command special forces due to the increased visibility of the visor and slightly less bulky feel of the armor.

The one Storm Commando had a red stripe down the front of his helmet and the sides of the armor. Jerot's armor, which was still placed on its rack, had a yellow stripe running down it. There were two others which had blue stripes, the Shock Troopers, and four with green stripes, the Stormtroopers.

Jerot began to put his armor on; the cold plates felt unusual. He hadn't worn the plate armor since the academy, and even then it wasn't all too common. It was also heavy, pulling down on his shoulders. He put the helmet on, and the inside lit up showing a tactical display screen. The team commander could issue commands without speaking too loud, as well as send different combat plans and routes.

He picked up his weapons, two DC-17 pistols, a backup pistol tucked away in a small plate on his back, and a pack of three thermal detonators. The explosive canister had been removed from the design due to safety issues and impracticality. Jerot holstered his blaster pistols, and observed the other soldiers.

The Storm Commando, designated SC-1772-45, who preferred to be called by the name 'Storm', had two DC-17's and an adjustable sniper rifle/blaster, along with a pack of charges. The two Shock Troopers both had dual DC-17's and a blaster rifle, as well as detonators and parts to a rapid fire laser cannon. The remaining Stormtroopers had DC-17's and blasters, with the standard issue detonator.

Jerot opened a small rack and pulled out a small blade, sheathing it on the back of his armor. Storm did so as well, choosing a longer blade. The other troops stored several grappling hooks on their person, and some extra ammunition cartridges.

"Are you all prepared?" Jerot asked, taking his helmet off and securing it under his arm. "We leave in five minutes, and I expect to see you all on the Silent in three." He turned and hurried towards the DP-20, putting his helmet back on.

The DP-20 had a specially designed 'escape' pod placed on it, with a sole purpose of infiltrating other ships without being detected. It would immediately cloak before being released, and once it made contact with its target several claws would open a hole in the armor plating. They would then be able to exit the pod, enter the enemy's ship and return to the pod later or escape in a different manner.

Jerot arrived at the Silent about twenty seconds before the other commandos, standing in the corridor waiting for them. They all boarded, and as soon as they were across the docking walkway, the ship detached and cloaked.

It descended out of the hangar proceeding slowly towards the central level of the Ergo station. There were several long, passage ways that laced the central areas of the station, which were not included in the schematics either. No sensors were placed on the small armor patches over such entrances, allowing for high ranking Imperials to stage a take over if necessary.

Jerot climbed up into the escape pod, followed by Storm and the other troopers. They all strapped themselves in, looking at one another. "Well," One of the green striped commandos said. "How goes it?"

A Shock Trooper turned to face him. "You looking for some comfort, Wilsen?" He asked in a heavy, deep core accent. "Because you aren't gonna get any."

Storm knocked the Shock Troopers helmet. "Gregor, stop playing around with the new kid. It's not the time to scare him, there's not gonna be a bathroom until the end of this trip."

"Sorry, sir." Gregor replied.

There was a loud hiss and a thud, as the pod detached from the Silent, making its way towards the station. It took about a minute, and then another thud notified them all that they had made contact with Ergo. Jerot began tapping the console on the wall to their side, and a loud screeching sounded, metal on metal. The helmet blocked it out though.

Gregor unstrapped himself, and jumped through the hole. Wilsen, Storm and Jerot followed, and soon after came the rest. "Ah, at least we don't have to worry about much down here." Gregor stated. He took a step forward, and a horrid screech sounded.

It seems the Rebels knew of the tunnels.

**Note: Yes, Yularen was supposed to die in 0 BBY, but how could I resist mixing it up a bit?**


	19. UPDATE

Hey, everyone! Sorry for not updating this for over a year. I'm afraid to say that I had forgotten about it for a while until some more people started liking and following Star Wars: Resurgence again. I will try to get right back on this, as soon as possible!

Also, do any of you think that I should go back over the chapters and revise them? Maybe add a little more depth and detail? Comment and depending on the response, I may go through with that while keeping the story moving forward.

Have a nice day!


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